


Dreamers in the FRANXX

by headpatspls



Category: DARLING In The FRANXX (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mecha, Memory Alteration, Past Child Abuse, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 129,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headpatspls/pseuds/headpatspls
Summary: a boy named Hiro meets a mysterious girl with fangs.
Relationships: Hiro | 016/Zero Two | 002
Comments: 26
Kudos: 163
Collections: DITF





	1. Out of the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> dreamers is a love letter to the characters of darling in the franxx, one where i hope to give them all the endings they deserve.
> 
> olcon's fanfic "Mastermind in the FRANXX" is what inspired me to start writing this. as such, you'll see stylistic similarities between that fic and chapter 1 of dreamers, assuming you've read it. however, i do have something significantly different in mind for the ongoing plot.

_Profile: Code 016 “Hiro”_  
_Partner: N/A_  
_FRANXX: N/A_

Hiro lay on his back, at the foot of a tree, staring into the blazing brightness of the summer sun high above him. It was hot in Mistelteinn today, but the alcove he’d found here—weeks ago, the same day they had arrived at the plantation, the first time he had wanted to run away—was shaded by thick foliage, and it was dark and cool and quiet. It was a cozy place to lie down and not think of anything, to be alone with the nothingness inside his head.

The communicator in his pocket buzzed for the third time. Hiro flipped it open unwillingly. It was Ichigo again. Her third message.

_Briefing is over, so message me. I need to talk to you._  
_Hello?_  
_Look, I’m sorry about Naomi, but they said you get to stay, so can you stop acting like a baby? You better show up at the welcoming ceremony tomorrow._

The welcoming ceremony—he could hardly imagine something more uncomfortable. He saw it in his mind’s eye already: Zorome’s smug, self-satisfied look; Mitsuru’s cold, blank impassivity; Ichigo’s and Goro’s mingled exasperation and pity. His stomach turned. He thought of Naomi, of her wide, innocent, desperate brown eyes—looking pleadingly at him, seeking reassurance, searching for a way to alleviate her guilt—

Naomi, at least, wouldn’t be at the welcoming ceremony, of course. She hadn’t passed. Neither had he. Normally, failing the aptitude test meant that both you and your partner were shipped off to God-knows-where, and never showed up at the plantation again.

The image of Naomi’s face after the failed test had burned itself into his brain. He clenched his fist angrily. _Stop thinking about that._ That was the whole reason he had come here, to the quiet spot under the tree—to get away from _that_.

 _Thud_.

Something had crashed into one of the glass panes that enclosed the plantation—something hard. Jolted out of his daze, Hiro clambered to his feet. The sound had been nearby…an animal, maybe? There was dark smear on a pane ten yards from him—dark red, he saw, as he drew nearer. He touched it. It was blood.

He startled. The injured bird, fallen to the grass near him, had tried to flee, squirming as it flapped uselessly. The blood was across its chest. He took a step forward, reaching out, wanting to help it somehow—he knew nothing about birds—but the injured bird righted itself, squawking, and flapped painfully into the air, disappearing below the crest of the hill behind them.

Hiro sighed with relief. It was hurt, but it could still fly—and it could still get away. _Unlike me_. The bird would be alright.

His teeth rattled, as a sudden mechanical hum filled his ears. The grass around him darkened under a massive shadow—turning, shading his eyes with one hand as he looked almost directly upward into the sun, he saw a massive APE transport crossing overhead, swooping lower on its way to land in Plantation 13’s hangar bay.

There was a girl in one of the windows of the cabin. His temples throbbed with sudden pain.

For awhile, Hiro followed the trail of blood that the wounded bird had left behind. He wasn’t sure what to do if he found it—maybe bring it back to the lodge?—maybe Ichigo or an adult would know what to do with it?—but the idea of seeing a wounded bird struggling to fly away...well, the symbolism was a bit too on the nose for him, and he’d like to help it if he could. Maybe it would make him feel better.

He passed into a clearing in the forest, which he knew led to a lakeside. It was cooler here again, and swaths of mist rose around him. The lake was up ahead—maybe a dip in the cold, clear water might clear his head—might help him get the image of Naomi out of his mind -

There was a something lying on a fallen tree trunk ahead of him—something red and gray. He drew closer. It was a pile of clothing—similar to the uniforms the parasites wore, but the color was wrong. Parasite uniforms were all gray. Weird. Was it from a different squad? Why would another squad be this far in the interior of Plantation 13?

There was a blob of something pink lying at the top of the pile. He picked it up absently. Something splashed in the lake and Hiro turned.

It was...a human? The figure was floating on its back; through the mist, he could see only the silhouette, but it looked feminine, and he knew it wasn’t anyone from Squad 13. So it was a parasite from elsewhere...but what the hell was she, or they, doing all the way out here, at this deserted lake?

Wait...her clothes were here, on the log, and she was floating naked on her back in the lake—

He covered his eyes hastily. But she was too far away to hear or see him, and he was burning with curiosity about the strange clothes and the unexpected appearance of the stranger—

Hiro looked again. The figure had vanished. Was she okay? Had she swum away?

The lake surface was still as glass.

Was she _drowning_? Panic flooded his head suddenly, and without thinking, he scrambled into the shallows.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Hey! Are you—”

She burst out of the water in front of him like a breaching dolphin, and Hiro staggered backwards in shock.

It was certainly a girl. He had never seen such a girl before—her hair was sakura-colored, soaking and waist-length, plastered to her naked body. Her eyes were emerald green, with concentric rings in the irises—her lashes were long and thick, especially the lower ones, and the edges of her eyelids were red, blood red, as bright as her uniform lying on the tree trunk.

Her skin was ghostly pale, nearly the same color as the mist around them. Her nipples were pale too. Hiro swallowed, and felt his heart thudding in his throat. She looked so _soft. So smooth_. Unnaturally so, like a water nymph, or like an angel. She was ethereal. Was she human?

He saw that she had horns—two short red ones, the shape of quarter-moons, poking out of her hair—they were glistening wet. He didn’t know, granted, that girls could grow horns, but he wouldn’t have minded if she had wanted him to stare at her horns for the rest of his life—

The situation was so bizarre, so unexpected, Hiro couldn’t move—he couldn’t even think. He just stood there and stared at the unfamiliar girl.

There was utter silence between them for a moment, before the girl spat out the flopping fish. He saw, in a split second, that she had sharp, pointed canines, too. Fangs. Then she was directly in his face, peering at him like he was an interesting bug. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent.

“Um...” said Hiro, trying to remember how to speak. _Moron, could you possibly make this more awkward?_ “Sorry, um...”

“Oh,” said the girl. “You were so quiet, I thought you were dead.”

She passed him and waded to the water’s edge, to the fallen tree trunk where she had set her clothes.

“Uh...” he said again. _Think. Think! Say something_. “Are...are you a parasite? Why were you swimming here?”

“Hmm,” said the girl. “It’s so weird...I heard ocean water was salty.”

“Uh...this isn’t an ocean.”

That was a very strange thing not to know.

“I know that much,” she said, resting her chin on her thumb and forefinger contemplatively. _Wow_ , she was gorgeous. “But it’s the most ocean-like place I know...”

She looked back at him. “Aren’t you going to swim?”

“Huh? No...I’m good.”

“Really? It’s so refreshing. And you were staring so hard, I thought you wanted to swim, too.”

He flushed. _Idiot_. “That’s not, um...actually, I...I thought you might be drowning. So I jumped in to save you, and...”

Seeing her naked body, as she stood appraising him by the fallen tree trunk, was like staring directly into the sun. Did she even notice that she was naked? He looked down awkwardly. “Sorry, um, could you put your clothes on?”

She cradled her chin again, staring at him like he was a difficult math problem. Then the lightbulb clicked on above her head. Her face lit up, and her toothy grin revealed her fangs more clearly than ever. “I get it! You’re a pervert!”

“W-wait, what?!”

She pointed at his right hand, where he still held the pink blob. Hiro looked down at it. It had leg holes. So that meant it was underwear.

“God damn it!”

He nearly dropped the pair of panties on the muddy ground in horror, but caught them at the last moment and held them out to her at arm’s length, covering his eyes with his other hand. An inscrutable look crossed her face, and Hiro was suddenly worried that she was going to shout at him—or punch him. But she burst into laughter.

“Your face looks hilarious!” she gasped. She was holding her sides, almost crying with laughter. Hiro scowled. He had made it weird…he knew that. Rubbing it in this much seemed a little excessive.

“So...” she said, once the laughter had subsided, turning to him with a half-smile on her face. “You jumped in to save me, huh? I appreciate that.” She cocked her head to the side and grinned widely—so widely that her eyes almost disappeared into the folds of her cheeks. “Thanks.”

Hiro sat on the bank and turned away, giving the mysterious girl some privacy as she dressed herself.

“Are you a parasite too?” she asked him suddenly.

“I—” So she _was_ a parasite, then? “No, I’m not.”

“You don’t pilot?”

“I _can’t_ pilot.” He picked up a pebble and flung it into the lake. It splashed into the water beyond the veil of mist. “I don’t have the ability anymore. And I dragged my partner down with me. She...she’s leaving today, actually. So...I’m alone now.”

“Hmm,” said the girl. “So you’re just like me.”

He turned in spite of himself and looked at her curiously. She was fully dressed, now, balancing a white semicircle between her palms—it looked like a headband.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m always alone, thanks to these horns.”

Her eyes flicked upward to her own hairline and she smirked, though there was no mirth in it. She donned the headband and it made a soft click noise as it adhered to her horns. So it was some kind of device, then, and not just a hair ornament.

“If you don’t belong here, just build a place where you do,” she continued. “If you don’t have a partner, just find another. If you can’t...” she grinned, mischievously, and raised both hands, crooked into mock claws. She pounced on Hiro, grabbing both his shoulders, staring directly into his eyes, even closer than she had been in the lake. “Take one by force!”

She leaned in, suddenly, and he thought she was going to bite him, but instead she licked his cheek. He shivered, both in surprise and at the overwhelming sensation of her tongue. He hadn’t expected it to be so warm—

She was leaning heavily into him, and without warning he lost his own balance and toppled backward into the shallows of the lake. The girl didn’t seem to mind; she knelt over him, on hands and knees, and murmured softly into his ear.

“Your taste makes my heart race.”

He thought that he might explode. Who the hell was this girl, and what was she doing, and why did the mere sensation of her touch send electric tingles up and down his spine? And why was his head hurting so much?

“It tastes like danger,” she said.

“What are you...”

“Would you have preferred a kiss?”

“ _Kiss_?” He didn’t recognize the word.

“Oh, you guys don’t know? It’s a very special thing.”

“Special?”

“It’s something that you only share with the person you care about the most.” The girl straightened up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I think I’ve taken a liking to you,” she added, the half-smirk still on her face. “Will you be my darling?”

_Darling?_

What did that mean?

He knew that word. Where had it come from?

It made his heart pound.

“Darling?” he said. “You mean...”

She held out a hand to him. “Your ability is probably just dormant. I can awaken it for you.” Her brow furrowed. “And you weren’t frightened by my horns...”

_Yes._

Of course. It had never even been a question. Something in his body, in his spirit, was crying out to take the hand that she had extended to him. His head was buzzing with electricity. She was so close to him. Her eyes were so green. Her horns...oh god, her horns. He needed to—

Hiro raised his hand, to take hers in his own, but was interrupted by a rustling in the bushes behind them.

“Hmm,” said the girl, withdrawing her hand. “Too late.”

_Too late? Like hell._

She turned back to look at the source of the rustling sound; her shoulders were tense, like she was bracing herself to pounce, or to flee.

Hiro turned to look. It was a group of people—four APE guards, two men in suits Hiro did not recognize, and a gray-haired man in parasite gear, so heavily bandaged it was almost comical—an eyepatch, a respirator, a neck brace, and his arm was in a sling. The skin that was visible between the bandages was wrinkled and heavily scarred.

Hiro’s stomach turned. Is this what fighting klaxosaurs did to you?

“We’ve been looking for you,” said the injured man, his voice muffled through the respirator that covered his face, crossing the clearing to the mysterious girl. He held a cap in his uninjured hand—one of the heavy, fancy cloth ones that Hiro recognized, though he had almost never worn one, as they were only used for official ceremonies. “Stop running off alone.”

“It’s not like there’s anything to do until tomorrow,” said the girl stiffly, as the stamen placed the cap on her head. Hiro wondered what had brought her and her entourage all the way out to Plantation 13.

“As your partner, I’m the one who suffers for it.”

Hiro stood up, regarding the unexpected gathering mutely. _Partner_? She already had one? What was all that business about in the lake, then?

The injured man turned to look at him. “Oh. Are you a cadet? Your welcoming ceremony is tomorrow, right?”

Hiro nodded.

“Sorry she bothered you.”

“No problem,” he said automatically. The girl was turning to leave. Her offer was slipping through his fingers. His head was aching. He was forgetting something important. “Um, what did you mean by partner?”

“Let me give you some advice,” said the parasite impassively, and Hiro saw that his one exposed eye was bloodshot. The man paused for a second, looking Hiro critically up and down.

“Stay far away from _her_.” He jerked his head in the direction of the pink-haired girl. “She’s not the kind of pistil that just anyone can handle.”

The group turned to leave.

_No! Wait!_

“Your name!” Hiro burst out desperately. “What’s your name?”

The girl stopped.

“Name?” she said, turning her neck almost imperceptibly, regarding him with one of her brilliant green eyes. “Parasites don’t have names.”

“But...” How would he ever find her again?

“But, well, my code number is 002. Everyone calls me Zero Two.”

_Zero Two._

It wasn’t a very imaginative name.

He should come up with a better one. No, wait, he had already tried that.

Something was making a crashing noise behind his eyes.

She had a single-digit code? He’d never even heard of a parasite with a code like that.

His head was throbbing.

“Wait!” he shouted. They had already gone.

* * *

Hiro stood on the catwalk, shivering, hands tucked into his armpits for warmth.

The world outside the plantations was cold, desolate, brutal—a featureless ocean of yellow sand that stretched who knew how many thousands of miles in every direction across the barren planet surface. There was nothing left out here anymore; nothing but sandstorms and klaxosaurs. It had been lush and verdant once, apparently, as they had learned in the academy—rich with vegetation, like the insides of the plantations, but all over the planet—before humans had begun drilling for magma energy, sucked the life out of the soil, and rendered it all featureless and blank and barren.

Parasites rarely left the plantation interior except on training missions. Hiro had taken a transport only once in his life, just as the rest of Squad 13 had—moving from Garden, the facility where all parasites grew up, to the plantation to which they had been assigned. It was rare to repeat the experience: parasites generally lived their whole lives in a single plantation, as they were expected to protect it until death.

He stared out across the wasteland, feeling a chill creeping up his spine—a chill that had nothing to do with the biting wind, and everything to do with the girl standing five yards away from him, clutching her suitcase with whitened knuckles, her colorless lips pressed tightly together.

Naomi’s long curly hair and her skirt were rippling in the wind, but apart from that slight movement, she was as motionless as a statue.

“You should’ve stayed, Hiro.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it still carried easily to him despite the rushing of wind around them. Her eyes were closed peacefully. “Did you turn down their offer because of me?”

Across the barren wasteland, maybe a mile away, the enormous spherical hull of the ground transport was approaching at a crawl. It would arrive within five minutes—they would both walk twenty meters of thin, spidery catwalk, creaking in the wind, to board it, and they would never see Plantation 13 again.

“No,” Hiro lied finally. “Even if I stayed, I wouldn’t have been of any use here.”

“Yeah,” said Naomi softly. “That sounds like you. Running away, again. From your squad, and your partner, and yourself.”

He said nothing.

“Do you remember how many kids disappeared from Garden?” asked Naomi.

“I remember.”

“We could end up just like them, you know. There’s no telling when.” He heard the suitcase handle creak as Naomi gripped it tightly. “And you’re still standing here, trying to act the hero. You know something? I would have stayed, no matter what. After we’ve come so far...you’re going to throw it all away, too? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“Naomi—”

“Why did you have to be my partner?” she shouted. Her knees trembled, and she collapsed, dropping the suitcase with a metallic thud. She buried her face in her hands and let out a cry of frustration.

Hiro grit his teeth. He wanted to walk the five steps separating them, kneel next to her, and comfort her, and tell her everything would be okay. He didn’t dare to move. How could he offer consolation, when it was his fault she was standing here at all?

There was a low, throbbing, metallic creaking and grinding noise as the transport rolled to a halt before them and the gangway extended. Then another sound—the clunk of boots on the catwalk, as the attending APE guard approached them, apparently reacting to Naomi’s cry.

“Cut the chatter,” said the guard curtly. His face was nearly entirely obscured by the gray standard-issue APE mask, but Hiro could see his lips pressed into an exasperated line. “It’s time to board.”

As though the arrival of the transport had flipped a switch in her head, Naomi stopped crying immediately. She stood, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, hefted her suitcase, and stepped onto the gangway.

At the hatch, she stopped and turned to face Hiro.

“You know, I really like this name you gave me,” she said.

A tear was trickling down her cheek, and she was smiling at him. A cold wave of guilt gripped him. Even now, teetering on the edge of the abyss, Naomi was looking at him with her deep, mournful blue eyes, and smiling reassuringly.

 _It’s all right_ , she was saying.

“Thank you for being my partner,” added Naomi softly.

There was an awful finality in her words. Something was wrong. Hiro stepped forward. Naomi lifted the heavy suitcase and hurled it at him, and it caught him heavily in the chest, knocking him backwards off his feet.

“Those are my things,” she said, wiping the tear from her cheek with her sleeve. “Share them with the others, will you? I’m not going to need them anymore.”

No. This was all wrong. His heart was thudding in his ears. “Naomi, what the hell are you doing?”

She took two backward steps, retreating from him. The entry hatch closed with a pneumatic hiss.

“Wait!” shouted Hiro, throwing the suitcase aside and clambering to his feet. He needed to stop her. What was she doing? They were leaving together, weren’t they? Why was Naomi talking like she was going to—

“Stop it,” said the APE guard roughly, grabbing Hiro by the shoulder. “Too late now. You’ll be able to make the next transport in time.”

“No, wait! Tell them to turn around!” shouted Hiro, throwing off the man’s grip. “She left her suitcase here!”

“We can’t,” said the guard. “Just sit tight and—”

The earth turned upside down.

The ground beneath them tore asunder as though a giant fist below it were punching through. There was a thunderous mechanical groan, and Hiro felt the catwalk under him tilt.

There was another noise. A robotic screech, like a sheet of metal being torn in half. He had heard that sound before, but only in training videos—old combat footage. A wave of cold numbness washed over his body.

Out of the crack in the earth rose a colossal figure, as black as pitch, four-legged, shrieking with anger, its massive head nearly equal in size to the transport that had just left the dock. It flailed madly. The 50,000-ton ground transport overturned, easily as a teacup, and crashed to the ground with an earsplitting roar.

Hiro recognized the black monster, though he had never seen one in person. They were the things that he and his fellow parasites had been born to fight.

“Klaxosaur,” gasped the guard behind him. “Run! Get to shelter!”

The klaxosaur breached fully, stretching itself to its full length, shaking sheets of dust and pulverized rock from its robotic hide. It swiped at the overturned transport with its huge head, crushing the outer hull like tinfoil.

Naomi was still inside.

* * *

_Profile: Code 016 “Zero Two”_  
_Partner: Code 119 (deceased)_  
_FRANXX: F-Prototype Unit 3 “Strelizia”_

Her head throbbed and the klaxosaur used the momentary opening to strike Strelizia with its tail, hurling it into the air. She was hurtling toward the outer wall of Plantation 13, the pilot of a flailing 18 ton cannonball.

The FRANXX crashed into the side of the plantation and Zero Two screamed in pain and frustration. The pain wasn’t bad compared to what she’d been through, but she needed to yell, to scream, to crush klaxes until her head would stop throbbing and she could have even a momentary release of sleep. The metal chassis creaked as Strelizia crumpled to the deck below the point of impact. She could see the outside, on the monitor—the trellis was in shambles, and the crash had left a pile of rubble and twisted metal under them.

The weight of the dead Code 119 pressed down on her back. He had been dead for eighty-two seconds. Barely over a minute had passed since she felt the dry _snap_ of the connection breaking and the hollow body had collapsed onto her like a dried-out plant, and the full weight of piloting Strelizia had begun to smother her. Her skin crawled where the thing was touching her.

Zero Two popped open the hatch and released the pistil mount guards to free her arms. She grabbed the body by its right arm and shoved it outside, gritting her teeth as it crashed to the deck below. It was so hot in here. Her arms were aching. She needed air. She stumbled to the open cockpit and leaned against the hatch door frame, panting. There was a cut on her forehead. Mixed blood and sweat were trickling into her eyes. Her vision was blurring, and she blinked several times.

“Hey!”

The sound of another voice out here was enough to send an electric shock throughout her entire body. She looked up. Oh, Papa have mercy. Of all the people for her to run into, out here, stranded on this catwalk—

The boy from the lake was kneeling next to 119’s head, trying to feel a pulse in the thing’s neck.

“Don’t bother,” she rasped, lips and throat dry. “He’s done for.”

His head whipped up and his eyes met hers.

“Zero Two!” he breathed.

Zero Two felt her knees threaten to buckle.

He remembered her name.

He had the same eyes. Cold, bright blue, like chips of ice. She was imagining things. She would trade everything—anything—for it to really be Darling. She had fought too long. She was delirious. It couldn’t be him. How desperate was she, to make herself think that? He was staring at her—it was like looking into the sun.

Zero Two shuddered, and looked away, and wiped her arm across her bloody forehead. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on. Seeing the stamen here had already made her job a thousand times harder.

“What are you doing in there?” he asked.

She let out a dry laugh, in spite of herself. What an absurd question.

“I’m going monster hunting, of course.”

“You’re piloting alone?” His eyes were wide, confused, disbelieving.

Zero Two couldn’t take it. She turned away from him and began to climb back into the cockpit. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” he shouted behind her. He grabbed her arm. _Please don’t_. “It’s dangerous! This is insane. And you’re alone now. You can’t pilot a FRANXX alone!”

She shook off his grasp angrily. _Not now_. The pilot’s seat back was smooth and cushioned and empty—she sank into a kneeling position on the pilot’s seat, resting her forehead, closing her eyes, pleading for relief, to make her head stop hurting for just a second. “I’m always alone. That’s how it is. I’m used to it now.”

“You’re going to die!” he shouted.

“That thing is gonna start moving again in a second,” she mumbled into the seat back. “And when it does, everyone here will die either way. I’m not afraid of dying. I have a job to do. I’m going.”

Zero Two braced herself on her arms and swiveled to sit in the pilot’s seat properly, and when she turned, his face was inches from her own.

“You can’t do this on your own,” he repeated, grabbing onto her arm. “I’ll go with you.”

Her heart swelled so much that she found it difficult to breathe.

It wasn’t him. She could see it written there, as plain as day, in his gaze—she was an unexpected oddity to him, a strange alien from outside the plantation, something he didn’t recognize. This was a different boy than the one that had taken her hand all those years ago...but...

He was holding out his hand to her, again, and his gaze was piercing her—

She bit her lip to control a sob that threatened to well up. He really didn’t understand—he had seen the dead stamen there on the ground below them, but he wanted to pilot anyway. Every cell of her body screamed out for his touch. She couldn’t hurt him. He would die here, too. She would rather tear her own eyes out than endanger darling.

“Hmm?” she said quietly, keeping her voice steady. “Are you ready to die?”

The look in his eyes was blazing, intense.

It was like part of Hiro was looking at his own body from very far away, hearing his own voice saying these insane things to the girl he’d barely met.

He really was going to die. But—

It had been decided the moment he had seen her leaning on the edge of the hatch in exhaustion. Her face had been coated with blood and sweat, and her eyes were lidded with exhaustion—and there was something behind her expression, though she had kept cool and calm and impassive, as he suspected she always did—something that reminded him of Naomi’s fear and confusion during the aptitude test—

_Not again._

He wouldn’t give someone else cause to look at him like that, never again. Not even if it meant sacrificing his own life. Zero Two needed him. The answer was obvious.

“I don’t plan on dying,” he said, holding onto her arm tightly. The cabin was sweltering, but even so, her skin was burning hot. “But if I get to pilot with you, I don’t mind it.”

Even as the words left his mouth, he cringed. He half-expected her to laugh at him. He had not expected her eyes to fill with sudden tears.

“What kind of line is that?” she said, with a weak chuckle. Then she was sobbing. Before he realized what was happening he had wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

_Protect her._

There was another _him_ inside him. Something rising to the surface that he didn’t recognize—something telling him to hold onto this mysterious girl he had just met, and to never let go of her. The words he had spoken rang in his ears as though a stranger had uttered them.

“Sorry,” he said, half laughing. “But I meant it. You don’t have to be alone now, okay?”

The smell of her hair and her sweat and blood and her soft pale skin was mixing in the hot, cramped cockpit, curling in his nostrils and making his head spin. As it had been at the lake, his body refused his brain’s suggestion to move.

She was crying, still. He wondered if he was hurting her. The sound and the thought helped him focus, and he let go.

“Sorry,” he murmured again. “I—I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hold me,” she whispered.

She pressed her forehead into his chest. He could feel her horns digging into him. His temples throbbed with pain.

He pulled away again, to peer into her face, to check if she was alright. She kissed him.

She kissed him!

Hiro knew instantly what the gesture meant, though he had never heard of it before. With a shock, like being plunged suddenly underwater, he was overwhelmed with a wave of unfamiliar sensations. It was as warm as when she had tasted him in the lake. It was softer. He returned the motion, pressing their lips together, touching her fangs with his tongue. Her taste was sharp, exotic. He could feel her heartbeat. His heart matched her own.

“That’s a kiss?” he said, though it wasn’t really a question.

Her lip trembled. She nodded.

“That makes me your darling, then, doesn’t it?”

Zero Two started laughing suddenly, unexpectedly. She sniffled and tightened her embrace on him, and Hiro began to laugh too.

kiss and love and comfort him. blue eyes and dark hair, strong hands, the sweet taste of hard candy, the harsh bite of snow. sinking into a cool ocean. his mind was cradling hers, caressing her, massaging her with a million tiny hands. cool and soft and safe. thundering in the ears.

She could rage and scream and kick and thrash around here, and the cool ocean would take it and fold her pain over and tuck it away to dissolve in its depths. Her body tingled with electricity. She was sinking into him and he was enveloping her. She hadn’t realized how much she had been craving this—she had ridden with so many stamens, so many empty husks, disposable fuel cells for her, to suck dry and discard, like an insect’s cast-off shell, and it was never enough, always stampede, always drive the machine to the breaking point, when the stamens’ energy failed her but she still needed to kill more klaxosaurs—and the fathomless deep ocean of darling’s consciousness was like a cool drink to her, a little girl dying of thirst alone.

She had thought that she could work alone—ha! The idea of leaving him now, going back out to fight on her own, clutching the insides of the raging mech as its anger boiled over until she couldn’t tell where she ended and Strelizia began—

Her whole being rejected it. Pilot without darling? It would be easier for her to sprout wings and fly away.

Zero Two was in his mind. She was thrumming, pulsing like a volcanic eruption, rumbling with the energy of a thousand stars as she joined together with the FRANXX. Every nerve in his body was tingling with energy. Her thunderous strength permeated his body—he could feel his muscles throb. It was like bathing in a supernova.

He reached out to Zero Two and found that he could feel her.

 _You’re incredible_ , he told her, giving her a squeeze.

“My God!” said the doctor, stepping back, spreading his arms wide, exalting his creation. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

Nana looked curiously at him. Frank’s expression was rapt, euphoric.

“This is the power of the FRANXX!” he cried.

The lion had reared onto its hind legs—but it was no longer a lion—the fuselage was changing, becoming more streamlined, rocking back onto its hind legs, straightening into a bipedal humanoid shape. A piece of the chassis detached, and Strelizia grasped it with one hand, raising it, pointing it at the recovering klaxosaur—it was a massive spear, thrumming with glowing magma energy, twenty times the size of a human.

“Strelizia! You’re so beautiful!”

The mech crushed the klaxosaur’s head easily with a left-handed blow; it dug its heels in and thrust the spear into the beast’s underside, lifting it bodily off the ground. The klax let out a mechanical shriek of pain, and writhed; Strelizia drove the spear through its body and it split fully down the middle, dissolving into two massive piles of blue and black bio-mechanical muck, the core skewered on the end of the Queen Pike.

_How was that, darling?_

_You’re amazing. You make it look so easy. You’re so strong._

He was proud of her. He was so pleased with her. She could feel his ocean covering her. She shivered with pleasure. She knew she was blushing.

_When darling is with me, I am._

He gave her a gentle squeeze. _I think it’s over. Good job, Zero Two._

She couldn’t move another inch.

Strelizia stopped at the open door of the hangar, barely two steps up the ramp, and collapsed to her knees. The hatch opened with a mechanical whirr. Hiro felt a blast of cold air hit his face, pulling him out of the heady, euphoric warmth of the connection, wringing him out and depositing him in the pilot’s seat. He sagged with sudden exhaustion, drenched in sweat, his muscles aching with the unconscious exertions he had been making. His head was swimming with shock and euphoria.

Zero Two detached from the pistil mount and rolled over onto her side in exhaustion. Their eyes met—both were too drained even to move. They shared a smile.

There was a man standing waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. He was short—the lab coat he wore was brushing the ground as he walked.

“Welcome back, Code 002,” he said.

Hiro’s head was monumentally heavy, but with the remnants of strength in his body, he managed to crane his neck and look up.

He’d seen this man before, though briefly—the cybernetic implants weren’t easy to miss—a metal jaw and eye, and a prosthetic arm. The doctor was shorter even than he was, and was resting his real and synthetic hands before him on the knob of a cane. His face was weathered and wrinkled with age, and his thick eyebrows were gray, the exact same color and texture as his bushy mustache. The quintessential mad scientist. The title “genius inventor of the FRANXX” might bring to the mind someone more impressive than this little stooped figure.

“Who’s this?” added Doctor Frank, nodding at Hiro.

“My darling,” she said. “I found him.”

“I see,” said the doctor. “Hmm...Code 016, was it?”

_Why does he know my code?_

“Yes, sir.”

The doctor surveyed them both impassively, expression concealed by his mustache and cybernetic jaw.

“Are you sure he’s going to be suitable?” he asked Zero Two briskly. “He looks a bit—”

She let out a nearly imperceptible noise that was a bit like a growl. The hair on the back of Hiro’s neck prickled. What an amazing sound.

“—indeed,” said the doctor. His expression didn’t change, nor did his voice betray a hint of trepidation. It sounded like he was used to this kind of response. “Well, then...I’ll have to inform Nana, I suppose, and she’ll be making the arrangements for your placement within Mistelteinn. You’ll have to go back to the Nines for the moment, Code 002, but I’ll have someone pick you up within the next day or two.”

Zero Two nodded.

“Code 016,” said the doctor again, and Hiro responded to his callsign on reflex.

“Yes, sir?”

“Code 002 is a... _unique_ pistil, should I say. Exercise caution, and, uh...take care of yourself.”

He could barely move, but he felt anger stir inside him nonetheless.

“Thanks for the concern,” he said bitterly. His temper was rising—he struggled to quell it. He knew Doctor Frank was on first-name terms with Papa, but still...who the hell did this old man think he was, to talk about Zero Two like this, like she was a piece of equipment or a klaxosaur—right in front of her, where she stood exhausted, sagging against his shoulder?

“Zero Two is my partner,” added Hiro, lip curling. “I’m going to protect her. The only danger we’ve been in is from piloting that stupid machine, and _you_ people are the ones making us do that, aren’t you?”

His partner stirred next to him, and a coiled lock of her hair dislodged and trailed down his shoulder. The doctor said nothing for a long moment, but fixed Hiro with his inscrutable one-eyed stare.

“Come with me,” he said.

Zero Two wanted to cry.

She had never heard anything so beautiful in her life.

Darling’s throat was dry, parched, raspy from the sweltering heat of the FRANXX cockpit. She could tell that every word he spoke was hurting him—and he was standing up for her—shouting angrily at the doctor, and his eyes were flashing, and she tingled with excitement at the sight of it—he had looked weak and frail and afraid, when they first met at the lakeside -

She could hear his voice rumbling in his chest as her head drooped against him.

The doctor led them through a winding series of corridors, stopping finally at the doorway of a tiny exam room. Hiro recognized the layout at once—parasites had checkups in rooms just like this, back in Garden, where their aptitude and physical suitability for piloting FRANXX was regularly checked. What was one of those doing here?

Doctor Frank ushered them in ahead of him.

“Apologies,” he grunted, sounding as though he didn’t care in the slightest. “But it’s a time-sensitive process—I’ll let you two go shortly—sit up there, please, 016.”

Hiro sat quietly, wavering in and out of reality, Zero Two still leaning against his shoulder, as the old man briskly took his blood sample, measured his temperature, peered into his pupils with a pen light.

“Appreciated,” said the doctor shortly.

Hiro took it as his cue to stand up. His legs trembled as he took his feet—the adrenaline had worn off and his stamina was entirely exhausted.

“You two should get cleaned up,” added Doctor Frank. “Room 216. You know the way, Code 002. Just this once—it’ll be my treat. Consider it a congratulations present.”

Leaning on each other, they turned to leave.

“Oh, and...”

Hiro looked back at the hunched old man, who was holding up the vial of his blood to the light and peering through it with a critical eye.

“Sir?”

“Well done, you two. You saved a lot of lives today.”

For some reason, Room 216 was a bathroom—a preposterously luxurious bathroom. Everything in Plantation 13 was colored white and gray, smooth-edged, cold and sterile and unyielding and devoid of personality—and then there was this room, somewhere deep in the plantation’s winding medical complex, with an enormous bathtub and a heated tiled floor and detachable shower head—and even with all the bizarre things that had happened to him today, this was one of the strangest.

He turned the faucet to fill the tub, testing the stream gingerly with two fingers to avoid making it too hot. He wasn’t sure how Zero Two liked her baths—he’d have to ask her when she came in.

Zero Two emerged from the changing chamber eventually, forehead still matted with blood and grime, her entire body drooping with exhaustion. She was so _pretty_ , despite this dirty, exhausted state—no, because of it—she was immensely strong, and confident, and she was making his heart race again. And she was near-naked again—she was wearing only the bottom half of her pistil innerwear, the conductive underwear-like layer that enhanced the connection between pistil and suit. Her chest was bare.

Hiro averted his eyes instinctively. His cheeks felt hot. Shouldn’t he give her privacy here? Surely she’d want it, in this state? Surely he should leave her alone to bathe—did she mind?

“Pervert,” murmured Zero Two sleepily.

“I wasn’t...!” It was a lie. “Okay, I was. I’ve never seen the pistil gear before. I mean...in person. You look nice in it.”

“Darling likes when I’m almost naked,” she said, grinning. “You’ve seen me already, though, haven’t you?”

He smiled too, in spite of himself. “Zero Two, you like it when I look at you.”

Zero Two blushed deep red, clearly wrong-footed by his response. “When it’s darling. But only when it’s you.”

“Besides, I could look at you naked for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t be long enough.” Hiro sat down at the foot of the towel he’d placed over the bathroom mat, and tapped his lap with one hand. “Lie here, I’ll help you clean up.”

She laid down on the towel with her head in his lap, and closed her eyes serenely. Her horns were right there, inches from his face. Were they longer, by a millimeter or so, than they had been at the lake? He ached to touch them—he wanted to massage the skin behind them, which looked unbearably soft. A frisson ran down his spine. His hands were shaking slightly. He hoped that she didn’t notice—he really did want to concentrate on something, for once, instead of just staring...

Well, not staring was a lost cause. He saw how thick and dark her eyelashes were, how the triangles of crimson skin at the corners of her eyes faded smoothly into pinkness. Exhausted as he was, his heartbeat quickened—how could one girl be so beautiful, so perfect?

Hiro dipped the washcloth in the still-filling tub, wrung it out, cupped Zero Two’s chin with his left hand, and began to gently scrub away the blood and grime that had accumulated on her exposed face in the FRANXX cockpit. There had been a deep, horizontal gash below her left horn—she must have struck it on something in the cockpit, when the klaxosaur hit Strelizia—but even as he brushed it with his fingers, it had become a narrow pink seam, like a week-old cut. It was nearly healed.

“Does it hurt?” he murmured.

“Mm-mm.”

Darling’s hands—they were strong and warm and smooth and gentle.

Darling’s touch—he was gentle as the sea breeze, efficient and purposeful, like a craftsman at work.

Darling’s breath—it was tickling her nose and forehead. It smelled sweet, like candy or mint, like curling up under a thick blanket.

Darling’s eyes—narrowed with the utmost concentration, so deliberate and focused, as if he were performing delicate surgery.

Zero Two’s insides melted into a warm puddle. Being washed by him...was it better than piloting together, than when their very minds were joined together as one, when she could sink into his fathomless cool blue ocean? Or was it better to lie here, resting her aching head on a soft surface, while the hands of her darling tended her?

She decided she loved them both equally, in different ways.

He scrubbed her forehead gently until it was clean of dirt and blood. He wiped her cheeks and the bridge of her nose and her temples ever so carefully, then under her chin, around her neck, behind her ears. She shivered as his hand brushed them. His other hand was cradling her jaw. She wanted him to stroke every inch of her like this.

He wanted to sit here, with her beautiful head in his lap, and stroke her face, over and over, until he dozed off in the warmth and silence, but tiny vestige of rationality in the back of his head was insistently reminding him that Squad 13 was still waiting on them, that the doctor had only given them an hour, that they would have to get up eventually and leave the room and face the outside world.

“Okay,” Hiro said. Zero Two recognized the tone of finality in his voice and moaned with disappointment. “I know, I know. They’re going to come get us eventually, Zero Two. You should get in the bath now, while you have time...” he trailed off, his eyes wandering from her serene face in his lap, down her shoulders, down to the—

He swallowed. She was watching him, and smirking—she was biting her lip, and he could see her gleaming fangs—heat was rushing to his head again.

Hiro bent over and kissed her, briefly but deeply, and she sighed happily and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. The sensation made his scalp tingle. There it was again, the faintest suggestion of a headache, throbbing behind his eyes—

They broke apart. “We really have to stop now,” he muttered. His head was swimming. Zero Two sat up and grinned cheekily at him.

“I’d thought you’d be more tired from the ride, darling,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I am. I’m exhausted,” Hiro said, truthfully. “But when I see you, I feel like I could…”

He cut off again, awkwardly, not sure how to put it into words. The act of standing up had sent a rush of clarity to his head, and the flood of questions that had ebbed while he was piloting Strelizia was coming back. Is this what _partner_ was supposed to feel like? Why had she picked him? Why now? He felt like his body had gained another fundamental need, on top of hunger and thirst and sleep—the need to be near Zero Two, to feel her presence, to protect her, to see her smile again. Had the two of them connecting in the cockpit done this to him?

It wasn’t normal to feel this way about a girl you’d just met. He knew that much, but still...

Zero Two paused, about to pull down the innerwear bottoms. She turned to look at him, cocking her head curiously.

What should he say? “Why me?” This wasn’t the time, not when they were so peaceful and cozy together. Why had his unbidden thoughts intruded now, of all the times to do it? There would be plenty of time to worry about everything when he got back to Mistelteinn.

But why him?

Surely it wasn’t simply because she needed a new stamen. He couldn’t imagine her relaxing like this with the gray-haired man he’d met at the lakeside. The man’s face sprung into his mind again. Was that what lay in Hiro’s future? Grotesque injury and eventual death in battle?

They had gone from utter strangers to bathing each other in less than a day. As quickly as this insanity had begun, it could end in just the same way. What if he woke up tomorrow and she was gone forever?

Darling’s face was suddenly confused, and she could sense that his thoughts had turned inward. The face washing had been warm, cozy, divine, transcendental. Now there was an unpleasant chill in the room. No, no, it was too early for this. She had wanted it to last forever...

Had the adrenaline of the flight worn off, and he was beginning to realize that he should be afraid of her? of her ugly horns, and her freakish teeth—she’d seen many human girls by now, and none of them had fangs like hers.

Was it really _him_ , and perhaps had he begun to—? No. She cut off the thought before her brain could even form the word. She had always, _always_ promised herself not to give in to false hope. Her new partner—her new darling—was kind and gentle and beautiful and confident, but that didn’t mean he was _him_.

But could it be? She bit her lip. She couldn’t bear any more of this. Please, God, please let it be him. Please give her this one moment of happiness and peace. Please make Darling say something—she didn’t like that expression on his face.

The words burst out of him before Hiro could stop them.

“I’m scared.”

Zero Two’s smirk was gone. Her eyes were wide, fearful. Her arms drew in protectively, as though she was afraid he might hit her.

Hiro realized his mistake immediately.

“It—it’s not because of you!” he continued urgently. God, what an awful opening line. The fear and mistrust in her eyes was breaking his heart. He stepped forward and wrapped her tightly in his embrace—she didn’t resist.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know how to start. I’m not afraid of you. I think you’re gorgeous, and amazing. I promise.” He cradled the back of her head with his hand. He could feel her shaking. “I’m worried because I...because I dragged Naomi down with me. Her scores were excellent, she didn’t deserve it. It was my fault. And...I can’t make promises about what’s going to happen if we pilot together. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I don’t want to drag you down like I did with her. But I still want to pilot. I really want to pilot with you, Zero Two. If that’s okay with you.”

“You...you still want to pilot with me?”

Zero Two’s eyes were as wide as they had ever been. Her expression was unfathomable.

Hiro latched onto the question—if there was a single fact remaining in the universe, one thing that would remain constant whatever else happened, that was it.

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” he said. “Whatever I have to do, whoever I have to fight, however many klaxosaurs I have to kill, I’ll protect you, Zero Two. I’ll be your darling. Until the day I die.” Her mouth fell open in bewilderment.

There was a brisk knocking sound at the door. Someone from APE had probably finally shown up, to see what was taking them so long.

“I’ve got to go,” Hiro whispered. He leaned in and kissed her deeply on the mouth, cradling her body as gently as he could. “We’re partners now, okay? So I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

He left the bathroom in a hurry, picking up his folded parasite uniform from the table at the door.

Tears were running down her cheeks as she watched him go.


	2. Maiden Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zero two meets squad 13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be honest, the first chapter of dreamers was originally intended to be a fluff oneshot, but i ended up falling for the characters all over again, so i felt obligated to tell their whole story.
> 
> in case you've seen the show and the cockpit geometry of the FRANXX described in this chapter confuses you, be forewarned that in the canon of Dreamers, the piloting position is closer to vertical spooning than doggy style.

It was past nine when Hiro woke up.

He fumbled on his parasite uniform, half asleep, with sunlight prickling his tired eyes through the uncovered window. On the landing outside he ran into Zorome, who was leaning over the railing and staring intently at the doorway into the dining hall. Below them, the door was cracked, and Goro, Ichigo, and Futoshi were all gathered around it, peering at something inside.

“What’s going on?” asked Hiro.

“It’s that girl,” said Zorome, not taking his eyes off the doorway. “The parasite from yesterday, with the pink hair. She’s eating breakfast in our dining hall.”

At the sound of his voice, Ichigo looked up.

“Hiro!” she breathed, leaving the group at the door and hurrying up the stairs to greet him. She looked like she wanted to hug him, but she was able to restrain herself; instead, she placed both hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked anxiously. “You were out of it yesterday. I—we were worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m...I’m fine.” Hiro rubbed his bleary eyes with his knuckles. “Just a bit tired.”

“Thank god,” Ichigo murmured. “After piloting with that girl, I wasn’t sure if...anyway, I didn’t hear anything from Papa and the others about her, so…well, we’re not sure why she’s here.”

Zorome snorted. “Piloting? Hiro? With _that_ girl? You’ve got to be joking.”

“I did,” said Hiro. His brain seemed to be moving in slow motion, exhausted after yesterday’s exertion. “How do you know about her? What happened?”

“The doctor told us,” said Ichigo quietly. “We saw the klaxosaur—when it breached, it shook the whole auditorium. And the sound was...and we saw Strelizia fighting it. But we didn’t know it was you in there until...until afterwards.”

“Yeah, right,” said Zorome, turning away from the railing and folding his arms across his chest as he eyed Hiro. The group below them had turned toward them; everyone was watching the show now. “You’re gonna believe that? Mr. Sad Sack himself piloting an actual FRANXX? Before any of us did? After you dropped Naomi like that? Don’t make me laugh.”

Hiro felt a painful throb in the back of his head. Insults on his person, he didn’t mind, not anymore—not after eighteen years of living together with Zorome and the other parasites. That was just Zorome for you—rude, impulsive, childish. That kind of confidence and impulsivity could make someone a good pilot, after all. But Naomi hadn’t done anything. He stepped forward without thinking.

Ichigo had read the situation at once. She stepped forward, too, placing herself between Zorome and Hiro. They both looked at her: the tiny squad captain, a head shorter than either of them, her thick sheet of bangs pinned to the side with a silver swan-shaped hair ornament, arms held out warningly, blocking any potential scuffle between the two boys. Hiro smiled, in spite of himself. Despite her stature and her doll-like appearance, there had never been any doubt amongst the squad that Ichigo was their leader. She was so _cool_.

“That’s enough,” she said. “Hiro, you’re still recovering. Back off. Zorome, if I ever hear you say that about Naomi again, you’re out of 13.” Her eyes were blazing with subdued anger.

Zorome snorted. He raised one hand in defeat and departed, passing them on his way downstairs to enter the dining hall. “Sure thing, Squad Leader.”

“Hiro—” continued Ichigo, turning to him. She lowered her voice slightly. “Don’t be mad at him. He’s stressed out after what happened yesterday. We all are. He’s just...”

“Yeah, he’s Zorome,” said Hiro. “I know.” He took a breath, bracing himself for the question he was about to ask. “Did...did you hear anything about Naomi?”

“They recovered the transport,” said Ichigo, dropping her voice even lower, so that Hiro had to lean in to hear her. “She’s...she’s in medical right now. But they think she’s going to be okay.”

Hiro knew she was lying. He appreciated the gesture all the same.

Zero Two _was_ in the dining hall when they entered. She was sat at the furthest away of the three tables in the room, her plate piled at least half a foot high with three servings of every dish that had been set out for them. Hiro watched her, fascinated, as she picked up a pitcher full of honey and upended it over her plate, drenching bacon, ham, biscuits, scrambled eggs—all of it. She picked up a honey-covered slice of ham with her bare hand and tipped the entire thing into her mouth. There was something intensely enthralling about watching her—did she just not care for utensils? Did she not know how to use them? He didn’t know what to think anymore, not after what had happened yesterday.

“Hey,” said Goro next to him, nudging Hiro in the ribs with his elbow. “You gonna eat?”

“Oh, right.” Hiro realized that he had been staring.

They collected their breakfast and approached the boys’ table, which was closest to the door. Zorome, Mitsuru, and Futoshi were sitting there already, apparently in the middle of a discussion—Zorome was leaning forward with his forearms on the table, watching Mitsuru intently; Futoshi was occupied with chewing the mouthful he’d taken out of the bread roll still held in his hand; Mitsuru was leaning back, arms folded, speaking in a low voice to the both of them.

“Morning,” said Hiro, as he and Goro sat at the end of the table.

“Hiro!” said Futoshi, muffled through his mouthful of bread. “Thank god.” He paused for a second, brow furrowed with intense concentration as he swallowed, and took a gulp of water. “That—yesterday, in the FRANXX, that was—I can’t believe you made it out alive. Thank god.”

Hiro nodded. “Yeah, sorry I worried you all. I’m okay, though.”

“What was it like?” demanded Futoshi, his eyes wide. Seemingly of its own accord, his hand lifted the roll to his mouth again, and he took a bite. “Piloting, I mean.”

“It was...I don’t really remember.”

He had decided on the lie yesterday, while washing Zero Two’s face in the bath. The minutes he had spent linked with her in the FRANXX cockpit felt like a holy act—one he wanted to repeat soon, and one that he definitely didn’t want to share with the boys in Squad 13. Not yet, anyway.

Futoshi’s face fell in disappointment. “Oh.”

“You don’t remember?” said Mitsuru sharply.

“I remember the feeling, a little bit. Of connecting, I mean. It wasn’t anything like the training units.”

“See what I mean?” Zorome said, still watching Mitsuru, jerking his head at Hiro.

“What?” said Hiro. Goro shook his head and speared a sausage with his fork.

“It’s nothing,” Mitsuru replied. His eyes were cold.

“Nothing, my ass!” hissed Zorome. He fixed Hiro with his gaze. “You’ve heard the rumors about her, Hiro, haven’t you? Mitsuru was telling us this morning. That girl isn’t an ordinary pistil.” Well, Hiro certainly agreed with that part, at least. “Apparently she can pilot a FRANXX on her own, without a stamen.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” came Kokoro’s soft voice from the table next to them, where the girls sat. “You need a boy/girl pair to pilot a FRANXX. Humans can’t pilot them on their own. It doesn’t work.”

“ _Humans_ can’t,” snapped Miku. “Who knows what _she_ can do, though.” She raised her forefingers to her head, pointing them outwards in a crude imitation of Zero Two’s horns.

“Stop it,” said Ichigo angrily. “She saved us, you know. Don’t be a child.”

“Hmph.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So Mitsuru told you that she piloted and I just came along for the ride?” continued Hiro. Mitsuru looked like he wanted to speak.

“That’s not all,” said Zorome, clearly not listening. “This—I overheard some of the adults talking about this, too. It’s not just a rumor. She keeps getting new partners. You know why?” He lowered his voice even further, so that Hiro had to lean in to hear. “Her partners only last for three rides. After the third one, they die. Riding with that girl kills them.” He eyed Zero Two nervously. “When you came back yesterday, you looked half dead. We thought you were done for already.”

“Really.” Hiro picked at the bacon on his plate, the image of his partner’s peaceful face during the wash yesterday flickering in his mind. “A parasite that kills her partners? So you believe anything.”

“Screw this,” said Zorome, suddenly impatient, rising from his chair. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Zero Two’s head turned as Zorome approached her.

“Hey,” he said, puffing out his chest confidently. “It was an honor seeing your skills in person yesterday. Want to pilot with me? I had the best scores in our squad. It’ll be easier than lugging that dead weight around.”

“What the hell is he doing?” hissed Miku from the next table over, her cheeks flushed with indignation. “He’s got a partner already.”

Zero Two was looking at Zorome with a completely blank expression, as though he was speaking a language she didn’t understand. She looked at him, then back at her plate, then back to Zorome, and reached toward him with one hand.

For a heart-stopping moment, Hiro thought for some reason that she was going to embrace Zorome, but instead Zero Two used his shirt to wipe the honey off her fingers.

“H-hey! What the...”

Even Zorome was too taken aback to shout at her. He stepped back several paces, looking down at the stained front of his shirt in horror, his face as red as his partner’s had been. Miku snorted and covered her mouth with both hands, and Hiro knew she was trying not to burst into laughter.

Zero Two picked up her plate and stood wordlessly, passing Zorome on her way to the boys’ table.

“Hey!” said Zorome weakly. “You can’t just—you’d better do something about this!”

Hiro pulled out the chair next to him to allow Zero Two to sit, but she ignored it, placing her plate next to his and sinking comfortably into his lap. Futoshi stared at the both of them, mouth hanging open in amazement; Mitsuru looked uninterested.

“Morning,” murmured Hiro, hopefully quietly enough that only she could hear him. He could feel his ears burning—everyone was looking at them—her thighs were warm and supple, pressing into his own. She was lighter than he had expected. She was close enough that he could catch her unique scent again. The intervening day, and the smell of the breakfast, hadn’t dampened it at all.

“We should eat together,” she said enthusiastically. “Try this! It’s so nice and sweet.”

She had lifted a honey-coated biscuit from the plate and seemed to be trying to feed him the entire thing at once. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. How could anyone possibly be so _adorable_? Hiro took a reasonably-sized bite. Too much honey— _way_ too much honey—but anything Zero Two fed him would have tasted delicious regardless. He wondered why she liked honey so much.

He speared a piece of roast potato on his fork, and offered it to her—Zero Two accepted it, eyes closed as she chewed blissfully. Looking at her, you’d think it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.

“Not sweet enough,” she said thoughtfully.

“We’ll work on it,” replied Hiro, grinning. There was a crumb stuck to Zero Two’s cheek. He picked it off gently—he just wanted an excuse to touch her—and she licked it off his finger. Futoshi was staring at the both of them in amazement.

“Hey!” screeched Zorome from behind them. “Don’t ignore me!”

“Did Hiro really pilot that FRANXX?” demanded Futoshi, ignoring Zorome along with the rest of them, looking eagerly at Zero Two.

“Mm-hmm,” said Zero Two. “You were _amazing_ ,” she added, stroking Hiro’s cheek with one finger, and his scalp tingled—“darling.”

Ichigo dropped her fork.

“What?” said the other eight parasites in unison.

“ _Darling_?” hissed Miku from the other table, loudly enough for Hiro to hear her. “What is that?”

“No idea,” answered Kokoro nervously.

“Doesn’t sound like food,” mused Futoshi.

The staring was starting to make Hiro uncomfortable. Zero Two showed no signs of distress—she was engaged in eating another slice of ham. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. Or perhaps she was used to being stared at.

Salvation came. The dining hall door creaked open again, and their heads all turned; a woman entered—a round-cheeked, rosy woman with long, curly brown hair, whom Hiro recognized at once.

“Nana!” cried Miku and Kokoro at the same time, both getting up from their chairs and hurrying over to embrace the newcomer. Ichigo rose to follow them.

“Goodness,” said Nana, returning both their hugs. “It’s good to see you all again.”

She had been their caretaker in Garden, where they all lived while becoming parasites. Nana was a kind, gentle, cheerful, understanding woman—the type that even Zorome found it difficult to complain about. Hiro, too, was glad to see her.

“We didn’t know you were coming here!” said Miku. “Are you—”

“Yes, I’ve been assigned to Squad 13.” Nana smiled, and her eyes twinkled. “Good morning, Ichigo.”

“Nana,” said Ichigo, with a strained smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiro saw her beckon Nana to lean down, so the shorter girl could whisper into her ear. He knew Ichigo, at least, had the decorum not to talk loudly about Zero Two in front of all of them; though, despite her efforts, Hiro could make out her words.

“What is Code 002 doing here?”

He saw Nana’s eyes flick over to where they were both sitting.

“Nothing, yet,” was the reply, though Nana was speaking more loudly—it seemed that she wanted the whole room to hear. “We’re awaiting orders from HQ on what to do with Zero Two.”

“Huh?” demanded Zorome, momentarily distracted. “Does it involve getting me a new shirt?”

“Zero Two,” added Nana, looking directly at them. Zero Two looked up, halfway through a bite of a biscuit. “Your seat is over here.”

“I wanna sit here,” replied the girl in Hiro’s lap, her expression not changing. “This table is comfortable.”

“That’s the boys’ table. Come on, get up.”

“If I can’t sit with darling, there’s no point in being here anyway.” Zero Two stood up, ignoring her plate, brushing crumbs from the front of her uniform, and swept out of the room with her long curtain of pink hair trailing behind her.

“Looks like whatever planet she’s from doesn’t teach people manners,” said Miku in an audible whisper. Kokoro giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand, looking ashamed of herself. Zorome snorted.

“Will I be piloting with her?” asked Hiro. “Is that why she’s here?”

“We’re not sure yet. We’re waiting on instructions from Papa.”

“Papa?” demanded Zorome, dropping his fork, having just sat down to continue his breakfast. “Why’s Papa got an interest in Hiro?”

“That’s all I know,” replied Nana, with a quelling look at Zorome. “You’ve got startup trials this morning, remember? You all had better finish up.”

“Eh?” said Hiro, surprised, as Zorome sourly returned to his plate. “Startup trials? Already?”

“Oh, you were gone yesterday, weren’t you?” said Goro, setting his glass of water down on the table and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, orders from HQ. Papa wants us to start as soon as possible. I bet the klaxosaur incident threw them all for a loop.”

“Guess who’s not doing trials, though?” said Zorome with a smirk.

Goro clearly wasn’t listening. He was gazing raptly across the room; Hiro knew he was watching Ichigo, his partner, as she stood deep in conversation with Nana and the other girls.

“I thought you all were supposed to pilot as part of the graduation ceremony?” asked Hiro.

“Right,” said Goro hastily, startled out of his reverie. He took off his glasses and began to clean the lenses with a spare napkin. “You couldn’t call it piloting, though. It was a minute long, if that. We just lined up in front of the podium and Papa wished us good luck. Just ceremonial.”

“So you’ve all tried it then, haven’t you? At least a little bit.”

“Yeah. A little bit.” Goro flushed, still looking intently down at his glasses. “It was...weird. That’s why I wanted to know what you thought of it. Maybe real piloting is different from that.”

“How was Ichigo?”

“She did really well.” He smiled, pausing in his glasses-cleaning, an unfocused look of admiration on his face. “Couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

“’Course not,” grunted Zorome. “ _Perfect_ double digits and their _perfect_ test scores.”

“Well, the real thing’s today, isn’t it?” enthused Futoshi, wiping crumbs from the corner of his mouth as he munched another roll. “It’s finally happening! We’re gonna be real FRANXX pilots!”

* * *

_Profile: Code 196 “Ikuno”_  
_Partner: Code 326 “Mitsuru”_  
_FRANXX: F-Mk1 Unit 6—“Genista”_

Ikuno was shivering.

Through the mirror set on the inside of the locker door, she stared at her reflection: a slim, bespectacled, freckled, brunette girl, with her hair tied neatly under a butterfly-shaped hair ornament at the back of her head. Utterly unremarkable. The kind of girl that might at any point dissolve and float away into thin air like a wisp of smoke, and nobody would notice her absence.

It was cold enough in the changing room when one was fully clothed. She felt goosebumps rising on her skin as she hurriedly pulled on the bra top of the pistil innersuit.

In the mirror, behind her, she could see Kokoro and Miku chatting animatedly. She never understood how they could do it—how they didn’t think it was odd stripping down like this, out in the open. Well, Ikuno didn’t blame them. There wasn’t anyone to leer at them here, and they had all grown up together—maybe she was the weird one after all. But still, no matter how many times they repeated it, this whole circus never got less uncomfortable.

Even with the innersuit now snug against her skin, she was still cold. Ikuno didn’t want to leave the changing room. The face of her partner was flickering in and out of her mind. Outside this safe, sterile little chamber, down the halls, out on the training grounds, a FRANXX was lying in wait for her—Chlorophytum, and Mitsuru. Mitsuru and Chlorophytum. Silent Mitsuru, watching her with his cold, dead eyes, judging her, arms crossed, tapping his finger impatiently on his arm, waiting for her to be ready. The suffocating darkness of the cockpit. The intimate abject silence, where each of them could hear every move the other made. Being with Mitsuru was more lonely than being alone.

She shivered again.

“Geez,” groaned Miku from the other side of the room, straining to pull on her innersuit bottom. “God! Why do they have to make these things so tight? My legs are gonna fall asleep.”

“I know,” agreed Kokoro. “And it’s cold in here. My hands are shaking, too. I’m so nervous. Miku, help me.”

“Nervous?” said Miku with a grin, elbowing Kokoro in the ribs and causing her to fumble her bra strap. “Scared of disappointing the teddy bear?”

“Of course not,” said Kokoro, looking reproachfully at Miku with her soft, sad eyes. “Futoshi-kun is always so gentle. I’m not worried about that. It just...feels so strange. I hope we get used to it soon.”

“I know! It’s so weird!” Miku reached over and grabbed Kokoro around the midriff suddenly, and the other girl let out a squeal. “It’s like someone stirring your insides around...”

Ikuno felt a sudden jolt of nausea. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively. “Don’t remind me.”

The other girls both turned and looked at her as though they’d forgotten she was here.

“Was it that bad?” asked Kokoro, brow furrowed with concern.

“Ugh, I don’t blame you,” said Miku. “Piloting with Mitsuru has to be like cuddling with a dead fish. Gross.”

Ikuno shook her head, eyes firmly closed, breathing deeply. She wished nobody had mentioned the phrase _dead fish_.

“Are you okay, Ikuno-chan?” continued Kokoro anxiously. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she said shortly. This wasn’t a good time to make a fuss. “I’m going to get dressed.”

Ikuno crossed the locker room and pushed through the containment field that separated them from the suit application chambers. An electronic humming noise told her Ichigo had nearly finished already. Her skin was tingling—touching the containment field always left her with a lingering buzzing sensation. It was kind of nice. She concentrated on the feeling, letting it seep into her skin, trying to wipe the memory of the FRANXX connection from yesterday out of her head. She thought about calling out to Ichigo, but decided against it. They all needed as little distraction as possible, now.

“Oy, Ichigo,” called Miku, passing through the containment field a moment later. So much for distraction. “What did you think of it? Connecting is weird, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

Ichigo’s voice was slightly muffled by the closed hatch of the suit application chamber, but a moment later, it opened with a pneumatic hiss. Ikuno watched her run her fingers through her hair before she pinned back her long bangs with that little silver swan-shaped hair clip she always carried. Ikuno had always loved that hair clip. It was so pretty.

“It’s a lot like training,” said Ichigo, looking up at Miku, who had climbed into the adjacent unit and was resting her forearms on the edge of the open hatch. “The most important part is to be able to trust your partner. If you can do that, piloting is straightforward.”

“Yeah, _if_ you can trust your partner,” said Miku, rolling her eyes. “We all know how _amaaazing_ the double digits are.”

“Miku-chan...” came Kokoro’s voice, reproachful again.

“Have you ever talked to Zorome?” continued Miku. “That guy is a complete moron. He couldn’t pilot a paper airplane.”

In spite of her anxiety, Ikuno smiled.

“Speaking of partners,” added Miku, her tone suddenly hushed, as though she wanted to keep this conversation secret, even though the pistil changing room was locked and the biometrics wouldn’t admit anyone other than themselves. “What was all _that_ about this morning? Hiro looked like a walking dead man two days ago. Now he’s bringing a girl home out of nowhere, and she’s calling him _darling_? What do you think—”

 _Wham_.

Miku cut off abruptly. Ichigo had slammed her palm against the side of the machine. Ikuno saw that her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

“We’d better get going,” said the squad leader shortly, after a few moments of awkward silence.

The other three watched her leave the room.

“She’s in a mood,” whispered Miku. Kokoro shook her head.

Ikuno said nothing.

Out of everyone in Squad 13, it was unlikely that anyone knew Ichigo as well as she did. Well, maybe _knew_ wasn’t the right word, she reflected. _Understood_ , maybe? No, that sounded presumptuous and patronizing. Ikuno filed the internal debate away for future reference. Whatever the right word was, she knew just from looking at the squad leader exactly what was bothering Ichigo, and it was the exact same thing that Ikuno couldn’t get off her own mind.

There was something _off_ about Hiro and Zero Two.

Sure, the unfamiliar pistil was strange enough on her own, even disregarding the general social standards of parasites—her manner of speaking, her choice of breakfast, her strangely colored uniform, her horns. Zero Two was _other_. And Hiro was, well, a cipher. A nobody. The promising genius stamen with incredibly high test scores, the one they had all expected to lead them, the boy who had once burned so brightly before he had failed the final viability test with Naomi and the light had gone out of his eyes.

They were a strange couple, but Ikuno had never seen anyone adore anything as much as Hiro adored Zero Two.

It would be no exaggeration to say she was his sunlight. The moment Ikuno had seen that expression on his face, at the breakfast table, she understood a little for the first time what the word _partner_ meant. Ikuno couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be able to look at another person that way. Even Ichigo and Goro, the best students in the class, model partners, didn’t look at each other like _that_. They were squadmates, copilots, the voice of reason and the conscience of the squad.

So what were Hiro and Zero Two?

After watching those two feed each other breakfast, how could she possibly work up the courage to suit up, climb into Genista, and lie motionless, waiting for Mitsuru’s dead, icy consciousness to penetrate her own?

Another wave of nausea rose inside her and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Ikuno-chan,” said Kokoro quietly, pausing on the threshold of the application chamber. “You should rest. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to pilot today.”

Ikuno closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “I can do it.”

“I’m worried about you,” persisted Kokoro.

“You’re not helping,” snapped Ikuno. “Leave me alone.”

The silver-haired girl retreated wordlessly into the chamber, looking hurt.

Ikuno felt guilty the instant the words left her mouth. _Great_. Another stupid thing to worry about. As if she ever did anything other than worry.

* * *

_Profile: Code 015 “Ichigo”_  
_Partner: Code 056 “Goro”_  
_FRANXX: F-Mk1 Unit 1—“Delphinium”_

_Tap, tap, tap._

Ichigo closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of her own footsteps, echoing hollowly in the empty corridor. Signboards flickered past her, but she ignored them—she had memorized the layout of the plantation almost completely by now, and she knew the shortest route to the hangar like the back of her own hand.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Her heart was pounding. It had been a long time—years, maybe, and certainly long before she was appointed squad leader—since the last time she’d lost her temper like that in front of the other girls. Decorum and rationality and coolheadedness were of the utmost importance for squad leaders, on order for them to make the right decisions and instill confidence in the rest of their team. Ichigo had almost shattered all that in one stupid split second.

_Tap, tap, tap._

_Breathe in. Count to three. Breathe out._

Ichigo turned a corner and stepped into the elevator that would carry her down to the hangar. She could feel her heartbeat in the tips of her fingers. It was steadying now, calmed by the breathing exercises. Her stomach was still coiled into an uncomfortable knot—as it had been since waking up this morning, when she had first thought about startup trials.

Three days ago, she had known Hiro was going to die.

If a cadet failed out of the parasite program, they were, as Nana had once put it, “sent away.” It was an unwritten rule in the squad that they were not to discuss what the euphemism meant. But everyone knew. Hiro knew too, of course, and he had chosen his path regardless.

“Idiot.” She said it aloud in the empty elevator. It made her feel a little better.

When she discovered that his transport had been interrupted, and that Hiro had decided to take Papa’s offer and stay at the plantation in the meantime, Ichigo had cried for two hours. The divine hand of God had stayed the guillotine hanging over his head—the boy she had grown up with, and idolized, and loved—the closest thing she had to a brother. Parasites had no siblings.

And now...now nothing made sense anymore.

_Breathe in. Count to three. Breathe out._

He hadn’t decided to stay because of her, or because of the squad. He had decided to stay because a strange parasite had dropped out of the sky and offered him a ride in her FRANXX. Was it selfish of her to be angry about that?

The hiss of the opening elevator door ended her unfocused train of thought.

She’d been in the FRANXX hangar before, though this was the first time it had been occupied. It was colossal, blindingly white and shining clean on every surface—ten of the dormitory building in which they lived could fit comfortably inside here. The 40-foot-tall FRANXX units hung in their cradles, immobile and lifeless, spaced evenly along the catwalk. Sunlight pooled on their chassis from the slanted windows high above. It was a clear sky outside, then. Calm weather—ideal for first timers.

The boys were here already, bulky in their stamen gear, heads together in discussion, probably over what they thought piloting a real FRANXX would be like. At the sound of the elevator door opening, one had turned—the tallest boy, bespectacled, the sides of his head shaved close, though the top was an unkempt blonde mop. Goro’s face lit up upon seeing her, and he broke away from the group to approach her. Ichigo felt the tight knot in her stomach ease a little bit. If there was someone on Earth that could alleviate her anxiety, it was Goro.

“Ichigo,” he said breathlessly, stopping in front of her and offering his fist; she knocked it lightly with her own. “Can’t believe this is finally happening. Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re coming.” She looked self-consciously back at the closed elevator door. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” said Goro, grinning. “Excited, I think. Nervous. I’m ready to do it, that’s for sure. You?”

“I’m—”

An image flashed into her mind. A curtain of pink hair, and a pair of bright blue eyes. Two parasites feeding each other at breakfast. Only for a moment. Ichigo closed her eyes for a moment and focused to dispel it.

Goro had noticed her expression change. Of course he had. He leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, so the boys wouldn’t hear.

“You’re gonna do great. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Mmm.” Ichigo shifted her bangs to the side and smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

The parasites linked hands with their partners, and each pair stepped onto the boarding platform for their FRANXX. They were ant-like—indistinct specks in comparison to the hulking mechs that stood before them. Ichigo looked up into the vacant face of Delphinium. The mech was hulking and pure white, glittering in the sunlight, her head accented with light blue and coral, the same color as the accents on Ichigo’s uniform. It was important, she knew, for the FRANXX to be humanoid, and ideal for them to match the shape and character of the pistil as closely as possible.

Hatches unlocked. The servos whined as the FRANXX opened in unison to receive their pilots. Goro squeezed Ichigo’s hand, and she returned the gesture, then stepped forward and climbed into the cockpit, as the other three pairs followed their lead.

The ambient sounds of the hangar vanished as she crossed the threshold. Ichigo climbed into the pistil mount and wrapped her gloved hands around the grips.

It was dark and cool and utterly silent in here, and barely large enough for two people. She closed her eyes and inhaled. There was a faint metallic scent that reminded her of something in Garden. Starting now, this was their own private corner of the universe—her and Goro and Delphinium. Ichigo felt her heart flutter.

_Me and Goro and Delphinium._

She heard a soft noise as Goro lowered himself into the pilot’s seat.

“All good?” he said softly. It was more of an assurance than a question.

“I’m ready.”

Ichigo twisted the grips forty-five degrees, and the guards clicked into place, securing and supporting her forearms and shoulders. There was a faint burst of static as her headset radio connected.

“Delphinium to base,” she said carefully into the mic, her lips and throat dry with tension. “Requesting permission to launch.”

“ _Morning, Delphinium,_ ” came Hachi’s crisp, robotic voice in her earpiece. “ _I read you. Vitals all looking good. Interference is nominal. You are cleared for launch. Good luck, you two._ ”

“Ready?” said Goro one last time.

“Go ahead.”

The knot in her stomach tightened. She hunched her shoulders slightly, unconsciously, bracing for the connection. There was a soft _click_. A jolt of electricity ran up her spine and buzzed at the base of her skull. A sudden, irresistible, overwhelming wave of warmth, like a blast of hot air from an opened oven. A presence in her mind. Goro’s presence. The closest she could describe the feeling was like burying her face in a pillow. She could feel his excitement and nervousness.

Hachi was talking again in her headset. She refocused. “ _...para-capacity at ninety, ninety-eight, one-oh-three, one-oh-five. Sync is steady at one-oh-five. Delphinium, you are good to go_.”

 _Nice work_ , said Goro. He was proud and confident. In the connected state, it was like being given head pats. It was the one thing she loved about piloting. _Let’s go_.

Her vision flared to life as Delphinium’s faceplate activated. She turned her neck, shrugged her shoulders, rotated her joints. Everything was in order. Ichigo raised her right leg and stepped off the platform. Her foot struck the ground with a satisfying _thud_.

Six steps later they had descended the lowered ramp and stepped out onto an expanse of hot yellow sand.

Ichigo looked back. Their squadmates were emerging from the other entrances, looming like sleepy giants. Argentea came first: the smallest and lightest of the FRANXX, specializing in close combat—white and pink, stocky, with blunt serrations on her forearms. Genista was next, thudding heavily as she descended the ramp—the bulky artillery specialist unit, with heavy black and green-accented armor. Chlorophytum, the support FRANXX, emerged last, white and purple, ethereally thin and graceful, stepping slowly and carefully, her enormous wings tucked in rest mode on her back.

Ichigo engaged the comms link and was immediately greeted with the noise of Zorome complaining.

“Hey! Stop making weird noises!”

“Shut up!” came Miku’s voice over the comms link. “It’s a natural reaction! Be more gentle then!”

 _So they’re in high spirits, then_ , said Goro with a grin.

“Argentea,” said Ichigo. “Status.”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” replied Miku. “As soon as this idiot stops yanking the controls around.”

“What, you think piloting this thing is easy?” said Zorome angrily. “I’d like to see you try to—”

“By _this thing_ , you mean _me_ , right?”

“I know it’s our first day out, guys, but let’s try and take this seriously,” said Ichigo firmly, cutting through the chatter. “Genista, status.”

“Ready.” Kokoro’s voice was slightly shaky.

“Chlorophytum, status.”

There was a brief intermission of silence.

“Good to go.” Ikuno’s voice was also shaking, and she was speaking so quietly it was difficult to hear her.

“Say again, Chlorophytum.”

“We’re ready, squad leader.” It was Mitsuru. His tone was unreadable. As always.

“ _Line up in formation_ ,” said Hachi. “ _Delphinium, take point. We’ll start with basic movement drills_.”

* * *

Hiro rolled to a halt and popped open the hatch of the training unit to get a breath of fresh air.

It really wasn’t anything like piloting a real FRANXX. Not even in the slightest. The repetitive thudding of the trainer’s gait made his teeth rattle and made his head and wrists ache. Being with Zero Two was like relaxing in a warm bath, or reclining on a soft couch—this was more like being trapped in a nutshell that a giant was attempting to crack. It was hot in here, too. The trainer wasn’t equipped with air conditioning, since it was meant to be used indoors. That part, at least, reminded him of being inside Strelizia for the first time—climbing into Zero Two’s furnace.

Hiro rested his elbow on the edge of the open hatch and peered out across the wasteland below, shading his eyes from the harsh sunlight. If he squinted, he could make out the outlines of the squad in the far distance, blurring together in the heat haze. He wondered how long they had been out—two hours, at least. If he could have just shared this cramped little compartment with Zero Two for the past two hours...

There was a sound of footsteps on the level below him. Hiro climbed out of the trainer cockpit and peered over the guardrail.

He would have recognized that curtain of pink hair and those horns anywhere. What was she doing out here? Watching the training routine, like he was?

As though his thoughts had reached her, Zero Two turned and looked up at him. Her eyes pierced him. She was sucking on a lollipop. His heart pounded.

“Zero Two,” he breathed.

At the sight of Hiro, her face split into a happy grin. She sank into a crouch, and he blinked. What was she doing? Then she jumped—her legs extended like a frog’s—five times her own height, from the lower level to the upper, and alighted on the railing in front of him like an inquisitive bird.

“Darling!” Zero Two cried, as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She leaned off the railing into his embrace, and Hiro was suddenly carrying her. She was so light. The satiny skin of her cheek brushed against his. He breathed deeply, inhaling her aroma. His limbs were tingling with electricity. His body was crying out for hers. He wanted to press her against him and feel her every contour. _Stop it, you idiot. You saw each other three hours ago. Act normal._ Like he was capable of that, with the most beautiful girl in the world curled up in his arms. She leaned in for a kiss, and their lips met. He tasted the flavor of the lollipop on her tongue. Green apple.

“Zero Two,” he said again, after they broke apart. “You’re so pretty.”

Seeing Darling out here was enough of a surprise already. Zero Two was utterly unprepared for him to say that so candidly, straight-faced, with his soft blue eyes reflecting the clear sky above them. She felt her cheeks growing hot as she blushed.

Even the parasites in the dining hall that morning—they were his squadmates, and logically out of anyone left in the plantations they would be most like him. And yet she had caught every whisper and every nervous sidelong glance, every upward flick of their gaze toward her horns and her strange eyes—just as it had always been.

But Darling was looking intently at her and the expression on his face was rapturous. She was sinking into his clear blue eyes and her heart was melting like candle wax.

“What are you doing out here?” he said.

 _I was looking for you, of course._ “Just watching.” She broke eye contact—for a moment, his gaze was unbearable—and looked out across the barren plateau, to the blur of Squad 13’s FRANXX on the horizon. “I haven’t watched a startup ritual in a long time.”

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

The uncomfortable sensation of being stared at at breakfast had crept back into her mind like an unwanted insect. She frowned and shook her head, trying to dispel the feeling, but it latched on stubbornly.

“Zero Two?” Darling had noticed.

“It’s nothing.” She didn’t want to start their second day together by complaining about his squadmates. She bowed her head and rested her horns on his chest. It was firm and warm and comforting. Unexpectedly, he sank into a sitting position and leaned back against the stationary leg of the training unit, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her in his lap. Zero Two could feel his delicate fingers stroking her hair, and a frisson ran down her spine. She gasped with pleasure.

“Is something bothering you?” he murmured. “I’d like you to talk to me if you can. Whatever it is, I’m not going to get angry.”

 _No._ She was determined not to make a fuss, not when they had this precious little time together. Zero Two shook her head mutely.

“I won’t pry. But you don’t have to hide anything from me, okay? I promise. You’re my partner.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. Okay.” He kissed her gently on the forehead.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“Darling, can we—”

“Want to get in the trainer?”

She looked up at him. Darling was smiling. She beamed back at him. “How did you know?”

“It seemed like something you would like,” said Darling, grinning. “Anyway, someone might see us up here, and I don’t think either of us is supposed to be outside.”

Zero Two kicked off her boots. Her partner stood and hefted her with him into the cockpit, as easily as if she were weightless, pulling the hatch closed over them. The outside was still visible through the heavy plexiglas windows, but the trainer interior was so dark that the only way someone would be able to see the two of them would be if they came right up to the unit and pressed their forehead against the glass.

He leaned back into the pilot’s seat and scooped Zero Two into his lap. She spread her legs and rested her stockinged calves on the armrests, leaning in close to him and laying her palm on his chest. She could hear the whispering of his breathing. Her whole body was thrumming with energy. The scent and quietness and the feeling of Darling crashed into her suddenly like a tidal wave. Far too intense. A hundred times more than she had been expecting. She fought to stay motionless, to just lie here and breathe and _be_ with him.

“I thought it was going to be cramped in here,” he murmured. “But…”

She could see that he was resisting the urge to stare, and she had the sudden urge to tease him.

“Flexibility is important for piloting a FRANXX,” she whispered. “Darling. Bet you didn’t think I could fit in here.”

Hiro smiled. “There isn’t anything that I think you couldn’t do.”

Zero Two smiled too, and closed her eyes contentedly. She took a slow, deep inhalation. Her thick, dark lashes were fluttering. Her unique scent filled the cockpit—the scent he had first caught a whiff of back at the lake, back when she had knocked him over into the water and told him to take a partner by force. It was warm and heady, like the smell of a foreign flower. He felt lightheaded. The tips of his fingers and toes were buzzing with anticipation.

He stroked her ear with one hand and pressed his nose into her neck, where the scent was overwhelming. She was unbearably soft. He kissed down her neck, starting under her earlobe and moving in a line down the muscle of her neck to her collarbone. He could hear her whimpering suddenly. His head was pounding.

“D-darling,” she whispered, voice shaking, and he could feel her whole body shaking as much as he was.

“I must be dreaming,” said Hiro. “Or I’ve died and gone to heaven, and you’re an angel.” His temples were throbbing, but amid the dizzying rush of sensations from being so close to his partner, it was nothing but a dull ache in the background.

“I can’t take it. Ever since the bath, I’ve been…” Her grip on him tightened. Her thighs were trembling. “I need you to touch me. I can’t live without it.” She giggled. “What did you do?”

“I can’t, either. It took every ounce of self-control I had at breakfast not to touch you like this.”

He stroked her cheek, and brushed the red patch of skin near her eyelids with the point of his finger. He trailed it down her cheek to her soft, smooth lips, and they parted, revealing her shining white fangs to him.

“I’m your darling, and you’re my Zero Two. Kiss me.”

The training unit did not move again for a long time afterward.

* * *

_HQ wants you in briefing. They didn’t say why. Get down here and suit up._

Ichigo tapped the Send button on the fold-out communicator, then dismissed it, and it slid back into its housing with a mechanical _click_. Pistil suits were designed to be as form-fitting and light as possible, so as they had no pockets, she’d had to leave her handheld back in the locker room. The FRANXX unit didn’t even have their message history. That was lucky in this case, though. She felt a pang of guilt every time she had to read back through the texts she’d sent him on the day of the graduation.

The cradle disengaged. Goro, already on his feet, reached out a gloved hand to help her stand up. She grit her teeth and sucked in her breath as her feet touched the ground and tiny bundles of painful sparks shot upward through the soles.

“Welcome back,” said Goro, steadying her with his hand at the small of her back, bending over again to speak to her under his breath so that the other disembarking pilots didn’t hear them. “One step at a time. Easy does it.”

Ichigo winced. The handbook had warned them of the possibility of nerve hypersensitivity after disconnecting from the FRANXX for the first time. She’d hoped she’d be lucky enough to avoid it. The sensation reminded her of when her legs would fall asleep as a kid.

“That was crazy, huh?” continued her partner in a low voice, helping her painstakingly make her way down the catwalk. “After all that studying and training and preparation, now we’re FRANXX pilots. Kinda anticlimactic, isn’t it? At least the weather was nice.”

She knew he was prattling on purposefully, that he was trying to help distract her from the pain shooting through her arms and legs. To be expected of him. He really was a considerate partner.

“Everyone did better than I expected,” said Goro. “Even Miku and Zorome. I wasn’t sure how their teamwork would hold up in an actual—”

“You were great, too,” interrupted Ichigo. “The piloting was smooth and your presence was really calming. Thanks.”

She glanced up at him. His face was turned away from her, but she could see that his cheeks had turned bright red. _So Zero Two isn’t the only pistil that can make someone blush._

As though her thoughts had bidden the girl into existence, Zero Two appeared suddenly in the doorway ahead of them. Her arms were folded, and she was sucking on a lollipop—her gaze was distant and unfocused, and she looked directly past them, vaguely in the direction of the docked FRANXX. Ichigo wondered where she had gotten the lollipop. There was not generally any candy to be found in Plantation 13. Goro faltered, clearly as surprised by the sudden appearance as Ichigo was. They stopped and watched her as she passed them without the faintest hint of acknowledgement.

“Hey,” said Ichigo, slightly hoarsely, because her throat was suddenly dry again. Zero Two stopped and turned toward her, and their eyes met.

It was only thanks to years of psychological training that Ichigo was able to look back unflinchingly. This was… _alien_. The strange pistil’s irises were enormous, blue-green, ringed with concentric circles—her lashes were thick and dark and the skin at the corners of her eyes and along her lids was deep red. Her head was tilted slightly as she regarded Ichigo—it was like staring down an inquisitive tiger. Ichigo felt a slight knot in her stomach.

“Hmm?” said Zero Two.

“Why’d it have to be Hiro?” She had meant to open more diplomatically than that, but something about staring into those alien eyes had put Ichigo suddenly on edge.

“Hiro? You mean my darling?”

The knot in her stomach worsened.

“Why are you calling him that? What does it mean?”

Zero Two tilted her head to the opposite angle, as though she still couldn’t quite make sense of what she was looking at. “What difference does it make to you?”

“Whatever.” Ichigo concentrated on not clenching her hands into fists—a nervous habit that she should have kicked a long time ago. “I’d like you to stay away from him.”

The strange parasite blinked. “Why?”

“You’re not a part of our squad. If you’re going to get reassigned, it’s cruel to get his hopes up.”

Zero Two removed the lollipop from her mouth and twirled the stick idly between her thumb and forefinger. She took a step forward. “Really? And what exactly are you to my darling?”

“I’m his squad leader.”

Zero Two looked mildly surprised. She was leaning forward in her curiosity, looking Ichigo up and down. She was close, now—much too close. The gap between their faces was barely two inches. Ichigo caught a sudden, faint, flowery scent.

“Um…” said Goro.

Zero Two bent forward suddenly and licked Ichigo’s cheek. Ichigo shrieked and recoiled, stepping backward two paces, the shooting pain in her legs redoubling. Goro looked between the two of them, clearly baffled.

“Hmm,” said Zero Two again, unfazed, her eyes half-lidded as she concentrated, as though she were tasting a fine wine. Her expression split suddenly into satisfied smile. “Sweet. Very nice. I like your taste.” She replaced the lollipop in her mouth and turned away from them again, ambling along the catwalk toward the opposite end of the hangar. “You must be a good leader.”

Ichigo stared after her.

“Was that a compliment?” muttered Goro, rubbing his chin.

* * *

“A mock battle?” repeated Hiro. “But I just failed the aptitude test.”

“In light of the Mohorovic incident, HQ would like to re-evaluate you,” said Hachi impassively. “With a good result, they’re considering promoting you to parasite.”

“Nice!” whispered Futoshi. Goro reached forward and thumped Hiro on the shoulder. “Congrats.”

“But…”

Around him, on the circular rows of benches, the other members of Squad 13 sat, silent except for the occasional squeak of a fidgeting boot. To his right, in the back, Zero Two was there, sitting cross-legged on the top row, apart from the rest of the group. She met his gaze and grinned, so widely that her eyes crinkled. It was that same look of genuine happiness that he had seen before at the lake. Hiro couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at her.

At the front of the briefing room, flanking either side of the enormous holographic display, stood their aides. Nana’s face was resting in her characteristic half-smile, though she looked slightly anxious. As always, Hachi’s face was stony; he was clean-shaven, square-jawed, with prominent cheekbones and a broad forehead, and his military buzz was so straight and even that it looked like it had been trimmed using a ruler.

“Code 016,” said Hachi, crossing his arms over the clipboard he was holding.

“Sorry.” Hiro tore his gaze away from his partner. “Um, Zero Two and I were able to destroy the Moho-class, so why test our aptitude against someone in Squad 13? Nobody else has combat experience.”

“ _Combat experience_ ,” muttered Zorome derisively.

“ _Your_ aptitude,” corrected Hachi. “HQ isn’t authorizing the use of Strelizia. You’ll be piloting with someone else.”

His sentence passed through Hiro’s brain, leaving no trace of meaning behind.

“What?” said Hiro blankly. “But I don’t want to pilot with someone else.”

“That’s not your choice to make, 016.” Hachi’s gaze was fixed on him. “This is at Papa’s direct request. Choose your partner.”

Hiro opened his mouth to speak, but Ichigo interrupted him.

“I’ll do it.”

The squad turned as one to look at her in surprise.

“What?” said Mitsuru in a low voice, though in the silent briefing room, his words were audible to everyone. The edge of his mouth was beginning to curl into a half-smile. “You have Goro for a partner already, and you want to ride with Hiro instead? That’s a little…”

“If you’re only measuring Hiro’s aptitude, any pistil should work,” said Ichigo, still facing the front, ignoring the interruption. “As squad leader, I’m happy to volunteer.”

“I don’t want to pilot with someone else,” repeated Hiro. Ichigo glanced sideways at him, her brow furrowed. “I already have a partner.”

“That’s enough, Code 016,” said Hachi. “You know the rules. And Code 002—” he turned his icy gaze on Zero Two, who stared back at him, all traces of levity gone from her face. “The same goes for you. HQ hasn’t approved your partnership.”

“Fine,” said Zero Two, rising from her seat. Hiro had expected her to argue, but she said nothing. Perhaps even Zero Two understood the futility of disobeying a direct order from Papa. He thought she would turn to leave, but instead she stepped carefully down the rows of benches until she was level with him and Ichigo. Hiro moved instinctively to greet her—she walked past him, stopping directly in front of Ichigo, leaning over and whispering something into the shorter girl’s ear. He saw Ichigo’s expression change from alarm to confusion and anger.

Then Zero Two left, wordless, not meeting Hiro’s eyes, her thick curtain of pink hair swishing behind her as it always did. Her face was chalk-white.

“That’s settled, then,” said Nana, clasping her hands together in satisfaction. “Now, we’ll need a pair to volunteer to be their opponents—”

“We’ll do it,” interrupted Zorome at once, raising his hand impatiently.

“Hey!” snapped Miku, turning to glare at him. “Who died and made you king?”

“What, like you _don’t_ want to fight them?” said Zorome. “This is a great chance for us to—”

“Oh God, don’t even start. Ugh.” Miku blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and turned back to the front, thrusting her hand into the air as well. Hiro saw her throw a disgusted look at Ichigo. “Okay. Argentea’s crew volunteers.”

“Excellent,” replied Hachi, looking down at the clipboard he was holding. “The battle will be held tomorrow morning at—”

Zorome stood up eagerly, hand still raised. “Wait, wait, wait! We’re still geared up and everything. We should do it now!”

“Oh.” Hachi looked down at the clipboard again. “Well…that’s fine, actually, as long as Delphinium’s team has no objection?”

“We—” started Ichigo.

“No objections,” said Hiro. A lump had formed in his throat as he had watched Zero Two leave. He was itching with impatience and frustration. _Let’s get this farce over with, so I can go talk to her_. “I’m ready.”

There was a burst of static as his suit connected to Delphinium’s comms link.

Ichigo was kneeling in front of him, her upper body locked into the cradle. Something about seeing her there was surreal, uncomfortable. There was no cascade of pink hair, no red suit, no strong flowery scent—it was just him and the squad leader, locked up together in this cool, dark chamber. He did not feel at ease in here as he had in Strelizia. Hiro clenched and unclenched his fist reflexively. He just wanted to be out of here, to be done with this stupid mock battle, to go see his partner and comfort her, to explain what was happening…

“It’s okay,” said Ichigo, clearly reacting to his discomfort. She turned her neck to smile at him, and he saw her swan-shaped hair clip glint in the darkness. “I know you can pilot. Just calm down and concentrate on connecting. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Yeah.”

Hiro leaned back, listening to the series of soft clicks as his suit contacts connected to the pilot’s seat. This part, at least, was unfamiliar—he had piloted with Zero Two without a pilot suit. Despite his anger and preoccupation, he wondered for a moment why they needed it. Clearly, it wasn’t required for the connecting, which meant…

“Hey, Squad Leader!” The buzzing of the comms link interrupted his train of thought. It was Miku. “Good luck! I might just win this round, considering who your partner is.”

Hiro grit his teeth as the sound of her voice bored into his ears.

“Go for it,” replied Ichigo, keying her mic. “It’s an aptitude test, not a competition. Hit us with your best shot.” She shut off the mic and turned once more to Hiro. “You ready?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Hiro touched the controls, and an electronic buzz ran through his fingers and arms, up to his shoulders, collecting in his spine with a jolt. _Aha_. This sensation, at least, he remembered. He could feel his anger receding.

_Calm down. Collect yourself. You’ve done this before. Think of Zero Two. Finish the battle, and you can get out of here and find her, and hold her, and everything is going to be fine._

He gave Ichigo a gentle nudge. _Let’s go._

There was no reply.

_Ichigo?_

With effort, he withdrew partially from the connection, regaining his own body, seeing through his own eyes again. As soon as they focused, Hiro knew something was wrong. Ichigo’s head was bowed, and her ragged breathing filled the cockpit. He could see her shoulders trembling with effort.

With a shock of horror he withdrew from the connection entirely. Sensations crashed into place as he rose partially from the pilot’s seat, reaching out an uncertain hand to his temporary partner.

“ _Delphinium, come in_.” Hachi’s voice was sharp and urgent. “ _Your para-capacity is all over the place. Status?_ ”

“It’s Ichigo,” he gasped. “Something’s wrong. She’s—”

With a sudden, violent movement, Delphinium jerked forward. Hiro was hurled into the pilot’s seat, cracking his elbow painfully on the armrest.

“ _Evacuate immediately. Get out of there._ ”

“But Ichigo—”

“ _She’s stampeding. I repeat, evacuate. We’ll recover 015 once the situation is stabilized._ ”

Hiro's mind was a blur. There was a cacophony of screeching and thudding around him. Instinctively he slammed the eject button positioned under the right armrest. Restraining straps closed tightly around his chest. He shut his eyes, and the mechanism propelled him forcefully out of the back of Delphinium’s head.

Argentea knelt and deposited both of its pilots on the hangar floor. Miku and Zorome both stumbled out, white-faced and horrified, as Delphinium bellowed and clutched her head. Her faceplate was awash with static.

“What’s happening?” shouted Zorome.

“Is she okay?” shrieked Miku.

Dazed, but mostly cushioned by the protective covering of the pilot’s seat, Hiro pushed himself into a sitting position. Delphinium’s cries were earsplitting; he could feel his bones vibrating as she staggered back and forth, even though she was twenty yards away. Above him, on the catwalk, the rest of Squad 13 stood frozen; only Nana was descending the thin staircase that connected the upper level with the ground floor.

Before she could reach the bottom, the ground floor elevator doors burst open. Doctor Frank hobbled out, his uneven footsteps clattering loudly. Two masked APE guards trailed behind him.

“Nana!” he bellowed, and she turned toward him in alarm. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Sir!” replied Nana, faltering as the furious doctor approached them. “Stampede, sir.”

“Obviously!” he shouted in her face, his face reddening. He jabbed his cane at Hiro. “Did you make 016 pilot with another pistil?”

“Orders from Papa,” replied Nana quickly. Her hands were clasped tightly together. Hiro could see her knuckles whitening. “We were instructed to give him—”

The doctor swore loudly and turned away. “Emergency shutoff,” he barked at the guards. “Now! Before more damage is done to the unit!”

Both men nodded; one pulled what looked like a communicator out of his pocket and input a code, while the other stepped forward and seized Hiro under the arms, hoisting him roughly to his feet. The man began to bundle him toward the staircase.

“Wait—” started Hiro, but the guard covered his mouth with one gloved hand.

“Stand clear,” said Frank. “Get up to the second level.” He stared up at Delphinium and swore again, smacking his cane into a nearby support post with a loud metallic clang.

“Doctor…” began Nana hesitantly.

An alarm sounded. Above and around Delphinium’s station, rows of vents burst open and a torrent of some bluish fluid spilled forth. They struck the stampeding FRANXX and she staggered under the sudden weight. The fluid expanded into foam as soon as it touched her chassis. Her motions became labored as she struggled to shake it off; within seconds, Delphinium was encased entirely in a blue mass that looked like an enormous blob of cotton.

Her faceplate flickered and died. Her shrieking faded into a whine, then a faint growl. Then it was gone.

“Those fucking APE bastards,” said the doctor under his breath.

Hiro turned and vomited over the railing.


	3. Sightseeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zero two has a bad morning. mitsuru has a bad day.

“A name?”

“Yeah. I gave myself one. I’m Hiro.”

“What does the name do?”

He grinned. “It’s a special word that means _you_.”

“But the codes already do that.”

“Codes are just numbers. The adults use them. To us, we’re all the same. But a name is different. A name is the word for all the things that make up _you_.”

“Oh.” I blinked several times, trying to work my brain around what he’d said. “So why am I Ichigo?”

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and pointed at my metal necklet. “In Japanese numbers, that’s how you read your code. _Ichi go_. One five. And _ichigo_ is the word for strawberry. You know, the red fruit in books. It’s supposed to be sweet.”

 _Ichigo_. I held my teddy bear tight. The word made me feel warm.

* * *

_“And she’s been asleep since then?”_

_“Yes. All things considered, she’s been lucky. The emergency shutoff was quick enough that she won’t take lasting physical damage.”_

The voices echoed hollowly in her ears as though Ichigo were listening to them from the other end of a long tunnel.

_“Thank God.”_

_“But is she going to be okay, Nana?”_ A third voice.

A pause. _“Doctor Frank said she should awaken within 72 hours. Physically, she’s fine, but mentally…”_ A sigh. _“We’ll have to wait and hope for the best.”_

_“Oh.”_

A creak of floorboards. _“I’ve got to go give HQ a status report. Let me know if anything changes with her, you two.”_ A door opening and closing.

With a great effort, Ichigo opened her eyes. Indistinct blobs of color greeted her eyes; she blinked several times, and two faces gradually slid into focus. A mop of blonde hair, and a butterfly-shaped hair ornament. Ikuno was turned away, looking at the closed door. Goro was peering at her in concern. When she moved, he let out an audible gasp, and Ikuno turned hurriedly.

“Thank god,” whispered Goro. He raised his hand to remove his glasses, and she could see that he was shaking. “That’s…yeah. That’s a relief.” He smiled, and without the lenses his eyes looked oddly small. “Good morning.”

“We should tell Nana,” said Ikuno quietly. Her hands were clasped tightly together in her lap.

“Yeah. Are you doing okay?”

Ichigo raised one arm to rub the sleep out of her eyes. It took a stupendous effort. Everything was enormously heavy. “I don’t know. I think so.”

“Here.” He was holding a glass of water. Ikuno scooted her chair closer to the bedside and helped Ichigo sit up, propping her against the headboard. Goro offered the glass to her, tipping it slightly so that she could drink. It was deliciously cold and refreshing.

“How long have I been out?”

“A couple of days.” Goro set the glass down on the bedside table. “Do you remember anything?”

Ichigo closed her eyes. Trying to recall the event was making her head throb. “I remember briefing. And…there was supposed to be a mock battle. But something happened when I was in Delphinium.”

“Yeah. _Something_ is one way to put it.”

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Muted colors swam behind her eyelids. “Hiro was there. Wasn’t he?”

They looked at each other anxiously.

“Hiro was there,” said Goro hesitantly. “He was your co-pilot.”

The memory crashed over her like an ocean wave. She gasped and shuddered, pressing her hands over her face, trying to shut out the sensation. A mass of creeping icy coldness, like her whole body was being frozen solid inch by inch. That hideous suffocating black presence in Delphinium’s cockpit.

“Ichigo,” said Ikuno urgently, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was warm. The freezing sensation receded slightly, and she opened her eyes.

“I’m okay.” She gave the other girl a warm smile. “Thanks, Ikuno. You helped.”

Ikuno blinked and looked away awkwardly. Her cheeks reddened.

Ichigo looked back to Goro. “So where is he?”

“Um…we’re not sure.” Goro scratched the back of his neck nervously, not meeting her eyes. “He hasn’t shown up since last night.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “ _Really?_ Again?”

Goro grinned sheepishly. “I’d hoped he wouldn’t form a habit of it.”

“Ugh. I’m so sick of him.” Ichigo was too exhausted even to pound the bedspread with her fist in frustration, so she contented herself by flicking away a clump of escaped pillow stuffing with unnecessary force. “He’s such a baby. I can’t stand him. Of all the times to run away…the squad needs him now more than ever.” She glared at Goro. “Next time you see him, hit him for me. Assuming I can’t.”

“Sure thing, Squad Leader.”

“Ichigo,” said Ikuno quietly. Both their heads turned to look at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her lips were pressed tightly together, and Ichigo knew something had upset her.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Ikuno fidgeted uncomfortably. “No…never mind.”

Ichigo blinked. Haltingly, with effort, she reached out to take one of Ikuno’s hands in her own. Ikuno looked up.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s…it can wait. For when you’re better.” Ikuno attempted a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Hiro sat on the bench, back and shoulders aching, his fingers numbing with cold and the glaring whiteness of the room around him making his head throb. He couldn’t go back to the dorm, to Mistelteinn, not with the accusing stares of his squad awaiting him, not after the horrible thing he’d done to Ichigo. But parasites had nowhere else to go in the plantation; nearly everything apart from their living quarters, the terrarium, and the hangar required A-class or higher identification.

He had nowhere to run to again. Instead he crouched here, like a fearful animal, with the hideous shrieking of Delphinium playing over and over in his head, alone on a bench in one of the dozen or more chambers that connected the sections of Plantation 13.

The doors on one end of the chamber opened with a hiss. He looked up in surprise. It was Nana.

Hiro jumped to his feet, limping as he stretched his stiff legs. Nana was approaching him, her face concerned and confused.

“Hiro,” she said. “How long have you been here? The squad’s been looking for you.”

“Nana!” He took an awkward step forward and stopped, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He brushed past her question. “I…I…”

“Ichigo will be fine. She’s recovering in the dorm at the moment.” Nana indicated the clipboard she carried in one arm. “I need to take this to HQ. I’m glad I found you here. You should—”

“Nana,” he repeated, his voice wavering. He had to ask her. He couldn’t sit here on this bench forever. “Nana. What happened? What did I do to Ichigo?” He stared down at his own white, trembling hands. “W-was it my fault? Did I…”

“Calm down,” she said gently, her manner adjusting at once. “Here. Sit.”

Nana sat on the bench and placed the clipboard next to her, patting the seat on her other side, inviting him to sit next to her. Hiro sat.

“I spoke to the doctor,” said Nana as soon as he sat, in a soft, even, calming voice. “Delphinium stampeded. It’s rare, but it sometimes happens with FRANXX if the pistil’s connection is too strong, or too unstable. Unless it lasts a very long time, or happens repeatedly, it’s unlikely to cause lasting damage.”

“She was in pain,” mumbled Hiro. “She was screaming, and clutching her head.”

“It’s not a pleasant sensation,” agreed Nana. “Sensory overload from both her own nervous system and the one embedded in Delphinium. Fortunately, they were able to shut it down quickly.”

“But _why_?” he asked desperately. “She’s always been the best pistil in the squad. This never happened with Goro. It has to be my fault! Why does it only happen with me? Why did N-Naomi have to be my partner?”

Nana placed her hand on the top of his head and ruffled his hair. Hiro met her gaze.

“Shh,” she said. “Be kind to yourself. It isn’t your fault. Ichigo doesn’t blame you, nor does anyone else.” She glanced down at the clipboard, then looked back at him. “I’ll explain. When you two first connected, your sync rate was extremely imbalanced. Your para-capacity was an order of magnitude higher than normal. The stampede happened because she tried too hard to compensate.”

“Then it’s still my fault.”

Nana sighed. “Your numbers have always been a little irregular, but they spiked after the first time you flew with Zero Two. Doctor Frank advised us not to have you pilot with anyone else in the squad until you’d stabilized. Although, of course, he didn’t bother telling me the reason until after it had become important.”

Hiro looked down at his hands.

“It’s alright,” said Nana soothingly. “We never should have put you two in that cockpit together. It wasn’t your fault, or Ichigo’s. It just means that you’re different.”

The tension and guilt that had been weighing on him over the past 24 hours was slowly ebbing away. In its wake, he felt nothing but exhaustion.

“Does Ichigo know?” he asked eventually.

“She hasn’t woken up yet. It’s likely to be a few more hours.” Nana collected her clipboard and stood, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You need to get back to the dorm and see your squad. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Okay.”

The other image that was flashing in his head was Zero Two.

She had been chalk-white when she left. He had not seen her or spoken to her since then. She had not been in the hangar when the incident occurred, nor had he been able to find her in Mistelteinn afterwards. Hiro hoped that she had simply taken some time to herself to calm down and compose herself before facing him again. That was what he told himself, anyway, to distract from that other possibility, the icy creeping dread that was slowly worsening by the hour, the possibility that was too horrific to even form into words in his mind.

Was Zero Two gone?

Hiro looked up. He had meant to return to the dorm, but unconsciously, his feet had strayed from the winding path leading from the plantation inner layer through the terrarium to Mistelteinn, and he found himself wading through thick foliage toward the lakeside.

He thought of the sight of her pale naked body, and her sparkling eyes, and her soft round cheeks, and her fangs, and he felt sick. He thought of how long and silky her hair was. How obsessively must she have cared for it to keep it pristine, in the midst of so many combat missions? How was it that anybody so beautiful could have seen fit to call him her “darling”?

There was a ghostlike shape there by the water’s edge. A slim pale silhouette with a cascade of pink hair falling all around her shoulders. Zero Two was sitting there. Her clothes were piled untidily on the same fallen trunk. He gasped. Her head whipped around at the sound. Her red horns glinted in the beams of sunlight that filtered through the trees. She looked furious. She had been chewing on her thumbnail for so long that it had drawn blood. Their eyes met, and her expression changed—not to relief, but to fear.

“Zero Two,” he breathed. His voice broke, and without warning his eyes brimmed with tears. He had never seen anyone look so lonely and afraid. “I…I found you.”

He ran to her and dropped to his knees before her in the soft dirt at the lake’s edge. The look in her eyes was wild and fearful. She tensed as though she wanted to run away, but didn’t dare to move. Hiro reached out and took her other hand, the unoccupied one, in both of his own. The edges of her nails were red and scabbed.

“You never should have had to think, for even a second, that I wanted to be with anyone other than you.” He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve, and pressed her fingers to his mouth to kiss them. She was very cold. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Darling…” she whispered.

He pulled his shirt off over his head and pressed her chilly palm to his chest, so she could feel his heartbeat.

“I thought I might never see you again.”

Zero Two’s eyes, too, were shining with tears. Her hand twitched, but she did not withdraw.

“Darling, why did you come to look for me?”

“Why?” He let out a weak laugh that was half a sob. “I told you in the bath on the first day, didn’t I? I’m your darling until the day the world ends.”

“You should be angry with me,” Zero Two breathed, her lower lip trembling. Her fingers were trembling too. “I…I didn’t trust you. I was afraid. I thought that…th-that if you could pilot with someone from your squad…y-you would become a parasite, and you m-might not need me—”

“That would be like not needing oxygen,” said Hiro softly. He placed both hands over his heart, with hers underneath. “I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, Zero Two. Feel my heartbeat. _You_ are the reason my heart is still beating. You gave me a reason to live again.”

He could see her resolve wavering. She bent forward slightly, and he wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her tightly into his embrace, with her forehead resting on his chest, her horns pressing into him. She was crying. Tears dripped down her cheeks and into her lap. He kissed her on the top of her head, over and over and over again. Her hair was soft and her smell was even sweeter than it had ever been.

“I’m pathetic,” she said, with a weak chuckle. “I was so afraid. I wanted to be angry with you, Darling. But when you touch me, I melt. I can’t…”

Zero Two let out a deep, shuddering sigh. She raised her head and met his gaze. They kissed. The teardrops on her lashes brushed against his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” said Hiro. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are. It almost hurts to look.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and stroked her earlobe with his pointer finger. It was soft. “And you have such a sweet scent. I’ve never been able to notice a scent on anyone else. It feels like I could live off of just being near you, without needing to eat or sleep.”

“You…you like my smell?” Her question was barely audible.

“Like it?” He chuckled. “The way a flower _likes_ sunlight. And I like your eyes. And your horns. I’ve always wanted to touch—”

Hiro cut off abruptly. He knew she was self-conscious about them. He’d been concentrating so hard on not letting the last part escape his lips, but it happened, unbidden. Something about being so close to her and touching her sweetly scented hair and feeling her skin was making it harder and harder to hold himself back.

Zero Two’s expression was unreadable. Hiro’s heart sank. After all the care he had taken not to frighten her, to be kind to her, to comfort her—

“You want to touch them?”

“F-forget I said that. I was…” _Was what? Staring at you when you weren’t looking?_ His brain was failing him.

The edge of her mouth twitched into a weak smile. “Darling, you’re a pervert.”

Zero Two dipped her head forward slightly, so that her horns were pointing directly at him. “Okay. Just for a little bit.”

Hiro’s hands were trembling. He cupped her neck with his left hand and massaged the skin at the base of her horns with his right thumb. She let out a little gasp of surprise. Her eyes were shut tightly, and her thick lashes were fluttering. Cautiously, gently, he moved his thumb onto the blade of her horn. It was hard and sharp and slightly translucent like a shard of blown glass. As he touched it a sudden, violent, electric tingle passed through his entire body, and he let out a gasp to match hers.

She was panting. He stroked the sharp edge of her horn, moving slowly up and down. It was cool and smooth. With his left hand, he touched the other. He could feel her whole body trembling against his, as it had done when they had kissed in the training unit. His heart was thudding in his ears. Blood was rushing into his head.

With a spasmodic motion she gripped both his wrists and pushed him away.

“Sorry!” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I…I’ve never let anybody do that.” She looked up at him again, the half-smile still on her lips, her eyes swollen from crying. “It was so much more intense than I expected. You almost made me come.”

Hiro’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Um…come where?”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She stared at him in disbelief for a second, then burst into laughter. Hiro sat there, baffled, feeling a faint sense of dejà vu. She was almost crying with mirth now, doubled over and holding her sides.

“You’re adorable, Darling,” she gasped, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of her eyes. “I guess there are a lot of things they don’t tell the parasites.”

Hiro had the distinct feeling he was missing something. He wasn’t sure she was going to explain it to him.

“Wait!” said Zero Two enthusiastically, leaping to her feet and seizing the pile of clothes from the fallen trunk. “That reminds me. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Really?” She was moving faster than he could keep up. “What is it?”

“Not here. I need to show you.”

Zero Two pulled him by the hand through the tunnels that wound through Plantation 13, deeper than Hiro had ever been.

Many of the doors they encountered required A-class identification, which was usually allowed only to adults. Zero Two, though, had an S-class badge imprinted on her right palm; whenever their progress was stopped, she would take both his hands, interlace their fingers, press their bodies tightly together, and they passed through as one.

Hiro had long ago lost track of where they were within the plantation. Seeing it from the outside, he knew it couldn’t be _that_ big—but then again, they were definitely underground now, and who knew how deeply and widely the adults had dug to build themselves safe habitation. Identical white corridor after white corridor flickered past his vision, all beginning to blur together. Not another soul crossed paths with them as they walked. The only things that existed down here were himself and Zero Two.

They emerged from an elevator and passed through an enormous set of doors, out onto a wide balcony with a low railing, and Hiro let out an astonished gasp.

A massive city stretched below them—a sprawling, indistinct mass of steel and concrete, a colossal bundle of skyscrapers, lit in the underground darkness by millions upon millions of glimmering golden lights. The balcony where they stood was easily two hundred feet above the tops of the buildings, and a strong breeze was passing over it; their clothes and Zero Two’s hair fluttered in the wind.

Other than the soft swishing noises of the wind, up here on the balcony it was utterly silent.

“Amazing,” breathed Hiro, moving forward to look over the railing. His head spun. “How did you know this was here?”

“All the plantations have similar designs,” replied Zero Two quietly.

He glanced at her. Her eyes were half-lidded at she stared down across the expanse of the silent city.

“What?” she said.

“I’m trying to think of a name for you.”

Her eyebrow cocked in confusion. “A name?”

“I’m really good at naming people.”

“No, thanks.” Zero Two’s eyes returned to the cityscape. “Zero Two suits me fine.”

“Doesn’t it feel strange to go by your code, though?”

With a swift motion she vaulted over the railing. There was a long thin ornamental projection extending from the balcony, barely two palms’ width, and it was this that she landed on—she stepped along it gracefully, one foot in front of the other. She stopped at the end and turned to look back at Hiro, her hands clasped behind her back. Her brightly colored hair was trailing in the wind, partially obscuring her face.

“You know, when we die, it won’t matter what we were called,” Zero Two said, smiling. “People won’t remember our names. We’ll be statistics.”

“Why does that matter?” replied Hiro. “I didn’t give us names so the adults would remember us. They never cared about us anyway, did they? They already gave us codes. Names are for us to use, and us alone.”

Zero Two blinked, and the smile faded from her face.

“Hey, Darling,” she said eventually. “Want to run away with me?”

“Of course I do.” Hiro smiled despite himself. “What kind of question is that? I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Zero Two.”

Zero Two blinked again. Hiro realized with a shock that her eyes were glistening with tears.

Impulsively, without thinking, he climbed over the railing as she had done. The wind lapped at his ankles as he alit. Hundreds of feet below the two of them, the city lights sparkled white and gold. He felt as though he were spinning in a vast glimmering void—in this little universe, he and Zero Two were the only living things.

In a fluid motion she jumped from her perch at the end of the projection and landed in front of him like a bird alighting on a branch.

“Idiot,” she said quietly. “It was supposed to be a joke.”

“You know that kind of joke doesn’t work on me.”

Zero Two smiled. “I guess it doesn’t.”

They kissed, lingering for a moment, and broke apart, and Hiro cradled her head as she leaned against his chest.

“I know you meant it,” he whispered. “Being trapped in here doesn’t suit you. One day, Zero Two, when I’m strong enough, I’m going to break you out of here. We’re going to fly to someplace far away and build ourselves a home. And you won’t have to pilot anymore. Okay? That’s a promise.”

She let out a cry of anguish and began to weep into the front of his shirt. Suddenly she was holding onto him so tightly he thought his ribs might break—as though she was afraid that, at any moment, he might fade away like a wisp of smoke.

“Please don’t,” she choked. “Please, please, please, don’t do this to me, Darling.”

Against the backdrop of the city and the unimaginable yawning darkness, the two tiny figures clung to each other. Hiro rocked his partner gently back and forth, as Zero Two wept for the things that she had lost.

* * *

_“Darling doesn’t live in Plantation 13 anymore? What happened?”_

_“He was relocated years ago. I believe he was deemed too important to be used in combat.”_

_“Then why should I go there at all?”_

_“They’re an interesting squad, you know. They exhibit some behaviors we haven’t seen in humanity for decades. I think you might get some enjoyment out of them.”_

_Silence._

_“Darling is alive still, isn’t he?”_

_“I assure you he is.”_

_“When can I see him?”_

_“Is that really a question you want to be asking?” Frank laughed. “Being around you for too long would be fatal to him. A darling he may be, but he’s still human.”_

* * *

_Hi. I’m up now. Where are you?_

Texting him the same thing in almost as many days was giving Ichigo an uncomfortable creeping sense of dejà vu.

Physically, she was almost back to normal—after a day’s bed rest, frequent hydration, sunlight, and Goro and Ikuno dropping in every few hours to talk to her, Ichigo was feeling refreshed, almost better than she had been before the stampede. That, at least, she didn’t have to worry about; her physical fitness and aptitude numbers had always been excellent, even within the experimental squad.

The disturbing sensory flashes that Nana told her were a side effect of the stampede process had lessened somewhat, too. She no longer felt as though she was drowning in an icy swimming pool every time she closed her eyes. Ichigo would have liked that to be a relief, too, but another memory had replaced it, one that had been bothering her since even before APE had pulled her comatose out of Delphinium’s cockpit.

Ichigo didn’t _hate_ Zero Two. She knew Miku did, and Mitsuru probably did too. It was childish, she had decided, to hate and distrust someone just for looking different from them—for having non-human features, for acting strangely—who were they to decide what “normal” was, anyway?—but three days ago she had begun to hate Zero Two, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop.

She replayed it over and over in her head, and when she was asleep she dreamt about it. Zero Two—a pistil she barely knew—had walked up to her, touched her, whispered in her ear, licked her cheek. She’d told Ichigo that she had a sweet taste. No one in Squad 13 would even consider an act so intimate and disrespectful, not even toward their own partner, much less someone else’s. And Zero Two had acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. First she deigned to treat Hiro like her own property, and now…

Ichigo shivered. Every time she remembered the interaction, her cheeks burned and a buzz ran down her spine from head to toe. Everything she felt and saw and smelled and tasted now seemed a tiny bit more intense, like her nerves were lined with shards of glass. Maybe that, too, was a side effect of the stampede—though she wasn’t sure if she disliked it or not.

Her communicator dinged. She cut her pinky finger on the edge of the bedside table in her panic trying to grab it. The message on the screen wasn’t even from Hiro. It was Nana.

_Sortie orders from HQ. If you’re feeling up to piloting, come down to briefing._

Ichigo’s heart thudded uncomfortably in her throat.

A real combat mission? So soon after their maiden flight? When their squad leader was still on medical leave? Papa and the others must be desperate. Something must have gone wrong…or they were being tested again.

“A real combat mission?” said Zorome, much louder than was necessary. He stared at Hachi in unbridled astonishment. “What? Already?”

“You won’t be fighting Mohorovic-class klaxosaurs right away,” assured Nana, with her characteristic comforting smile and twinkling eyes. “This mission is much smaller scale. Think of it as a training exercise in real time.”

“Indeed,” said Hachi. “There’s a defunct Level 8 mine sixty-two kilometers east of us, and one of the old dig sites has begun to leak magma energy. If we leave it as it is now, it’ll attract a Conrad-class infestation, which is then likely to target Plantation 13 once they exhaust the mine’s resources. You are to enter the mine, seal the dig site, and destroy any klaxosaurs present. Any questions?”

The members of Squad 13 blinked at each other.

“What about Ichigo?” inquired Kokoro. “She’s only just recovered. Is Delphinium not participating? I’d feel much better if—”

“It’s okay.” Nana smiled again. “I’ve spoken to Ichigo already. She’s been cleared for launch. Also, believe it or not, piloting can actually aid in rehabilitating a pistil after a stampede episode. It helps the body readjust to the sensory inputs from the FRANXX.”

Ichigo nodded. Kokoro looked concernedly at her, and she flashed a thumbs-up back. Kokoro’s expression cleared.

“And what about—” started Zorome.

“No.” Nana had correctly predicted his question. She turned her glittering smile to Zorome, though there was a hint of coldness to it now. “Strelizia isn’t authorized for use with Squad 13 yet.”

“Oh.” Zorome folded his arms. “Okay.”

“As the plantation’s assigned defense squad, it’s extremely important that you’re prepared to handle this on your own,” continued Nana. “In the future, there will be missions where you won’t be able to rely on support from an experienced pilot.”

“That’s not what I—” burst out Zorome indignantly.

“You all should get ready,” finished Nana. “Focus on the task at hand. ETA to launch is twenty-eight minutes. Good luck.”

There was a general murmur of assent as the parasites stood to leave.

At the sound of his name, Hiro made the faintest flicker of movement indicating recognition. Zero Two did nothing of the sort; she was sitting in his lap, her arm around his shoulders, eyes closed, with a peaceful smile on her face. She might have been asleep. Hiro’s attention was devoted entirely to her, as though he were appreciating a beautiful painting.

Ichigo turned away from the unpleasant scene, and her eyes fell upon Ikuno, who was sitting two spaces away from her. She rose, sidestepped Mitsuru, and crossed to Ikuno to tap her on the shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”

Ikuno’s face was paler than usual, and dark circles had formed under her eyes, though they were well concealed by her glasses. She looked up in surprise at the intrusion. Her gaze was blank and distant. “Can’t it wait?”

Ichigo shook her head, and the other girl stood resignedly to follow her out into the hallway.

“Look,” began Ichigo, running one hand through her bangs reflexively, glancing to either side to ensure that they wouldn’t be overheard. She turned to Ikuno, who was leaning against the wall. “I think you—”

She stopped. Ikuno’s lip was trembling; her eyes were downcast; her arms were crossed, but she was hunched slightly, as though she were bracing herself to be hit.

Ichigo felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She had suspected this discussion was inevitable for weeks, but watching Ikuno during the startup trials had solidified it in her mind, and now looking at the pistil cowering in front of her was causing an awful stab of guilt in her stomach. She should never have left the issue alone for this long. How much had her squadmate suffered in the meantime?

“It’s okay,” she said, and she placed her hands on Ikuno’s shoulders so that the other girl looked up in surprise. “You’re not in trouble, or anything. I’m not angry.”

“Oh…okay,” said Ikuno hesitantly.

“Listen. I don’t want you to pilot today.”

Ikuno cringed as though Ichigo _had_ tried to hit her. “H-have I been that bad?”

“It’s Mitsuru, isn’t it?”

“W-what do you mean?” Ikuno whispered. “Did I…did one of the other girls tell you?”

“No, no, of course not.” Ichigo tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I’ve known for awhile. I should have done something about it a long time ago. I’m sorry. I don’t think you two should pilot anymore.”

“No,” said Ikuno quietly. “No, no, no, it’s not fair. Not after I’ve gotten this far. I passed startup trials too, didn’t I?” She took a deep, shuddering breath and stared down at her trembling hands. “Am I that much of a liability for the squad?”

“Stop it,” said Ichigo firmly. “It’s not about being a liability. It’s about _you_. Ikuno, connecting is supposed to feel _good_. It’s supposed to be the thing that makes it possible for us as parasites to pilot. If connecting with your partner causes you pain, that means—”

“…that I’ve let everyone down,” finished Ikuno, clenching her hands into fists and burying her face in them. “I know.”

“ _No_ ,” said Ichigo again, emphatically, gripping the other girl’s shoulders tightly. “It means he’s not the right stamen for you. This is _my_ responsibility, Ikuno, as squad leader. I let you down. I suspected it, but I didn’t bother to confirm it. You’ve been very strong, and you’ve worked hard for a long time, and I’m very proud of you for that. But you never should have had to grin and bear it in the first place.”

Ikuno shut her eyes, though not tightly enough to prevent tears from leaking out. Ichigo hugged her.

“It’s okay to say _no_. Even if you think it might not be what the adults want to hear, or what Nana wants, or what I want. If something makes you feel afraid or uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, okay? Can you promise me that?”

“O-okay,” whispered Ikuno.

“So that’s that, then?”

Ikuno looked up in shock, and Ichigo turned quickly to see the source of the familiar voice. Mitsuru was leaning against the wall next to the briefing room door, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as he watched the pair of them.

“That’s good,” he said. “Thanks for stepping in, Ichigo. I didn’t want to say anything, but I was really starting to feel bad for her.”

“I don’t need your pity,” said Ikuno in a voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t meeting Mitsuru’s eyes.

He raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, and his voice grew a degree colder. “Really? That’s how you talk to your partner? This hasn’t been easy for me either, you know.”

Ikuno spoke again, but it was so quiet that neither of them could hear it.

“What was that?” said Mitsuru quietly, unfolding his arms and standing straight, no longer leaning against the wall.

Ikuno took a deep breath. She was paler than ever. “You’re…y-you’re not my partner anymore.”

Mitsuru made the slightest of movements that suggested a step forward. Ichigo stepped away from Ikuno to stand directly between the two of them, facing Mitsuru, squaring her shoulders, her feet slightly apart.

“You’re dismissed, Mitsuru,” she said. “Chlorophytum won’t be launching today. You can go back to the dorm. We’ll continue this discussion later.”

His colorless eyes were focused past her, above her head, at the girl who stood silently against the wall with her eyes downcast and her hands clasped tightly together. He blinked. His gaze flickered to her face, then back to Ikuno’s. She saw the muscles in his jaw clench and unclench. But he relented, finally, and departed down the corridor with his catlike gait, and Ichigo watched his back until he turned a corner and had gone.

Ikuno let out a gasp. Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall into a sitting position.

* * *

Zero Two didn’t sleep well anymore.

Before they’d come to Plantation 13, when she was Doctor Frank’s pet project, following the scientist’s entourage around the globe, Zero Two had been allotted two moments of peace in the day. The first was in the cooldown period following a combat mission; she was allowed to sit down, to rest, given food to eat, and best of all, they let her shower—those blessed few minutes where she could scrape off all the grime and sweat from piloting and the disgusting smells of her assigned _partners_ that lingered on her for long after she had parted ways with them. Other days, she would fill the tub with cold water and submerge herself entirely and pretend she was sinking in a vast fathomless ocean. A little girl’s fantasy. The second moment of peace, of course, was when she slept.

Her sheets were rough and hot and impossible to get comfortable in nowadays. It was as if Darling’s touch had awakened something in her brain. Compared to his gentle touch and his icy blue eyes and the rich timbre of his voice, everything else in the world was too bright, too vivid, too loud, too harsh. She had fallen for the doctor’s trick, like the stupid arrogant naïve little girl she was. Of course this had all been according to his plan. Frank had never cared about her, one way or another—for him, Zero Two was just the missing piece that transformed his FRANXX into the ideal klaxosaur killing machine.

It had been beaten into her since as early as she could remember. _Kill the klaxosaurs and take their cores. The cores will help us understand how you can be made human. Once you are, he’ll be ready to see you again._

The real reason for coming to Plantation 13 was obvious now, of course. Her new Darling that so resembled that boy she had met so long ago lived here, and the doctor had wanted to give her a little taste, just to ensure that she kept her motivation—to remind her what she was fighting for, and to remind her, for the thousandth time, what would happen if she disobeyed them.

She hated herself. She hated her pride and arrogance, she hated the way the parasites looked at her, she hated the horns that grew out of her head. She hated how weak and easily manipulated she could be, to be wrapped around the little finger of this new Darling she had only just met. Sometimes she wanted to hate him for it, too, but anytime the thought crossed her head, she blocked it out.

The words of Hachi and Nana and Squad 13 in the briefing room were a blank buzzing noise in her ears. She neither knew nor cared what they were talking about—they weren’t letting her and Darling pilot, and that was all they needed to tell her.

A noise around them as Darling’s squadmates all stood up to leave. She opened her eyes briefly and scanned the room; the parasites looked excited and anxious, with the exception of Ichigo and the butterfly-haired girl, who were leaning close together and talking about something. Zero Two remembered idly that Ichigo, that girl who wanted so badly to steal her Darling, was the squad leader. She remembered her scent—harsh with jealousy, but very sweet otherwise—disarmingly so, almost intoxicating. Perhaps it was another one of those special things about the experimental squad. Ichigo was clever and intuitive and brave, which was unfortunate. It wouldn’t have bothered her nearly as much if it had been one of the other girls.

But at least for now, everything was okay. Darling had been perfect and sweet and understanding and he had known what to say. Zero Two languished in his lap, hearing the sound of his breath as it gently blew the ends of her hair. She leaned over and kissed the corner of his jaw. His skin was the tiniest bit prickly with stubble. Since the moment she had allowed Darling to touch her horns by the lake, every contact with him sent a wave of sweetness sweeping through her body, tingling in her chest and stomach and in the tips of her toes and fingers. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could gather it all up into a ball and hold it until it boiled over and made all her muscles tremble, until it was so intense that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying.

The rows of benches in the briefing room were not especially comfortable, but Zero Two was lying peacefully in his lap, like a cat whose nap he didn’t want to interrupt—and though it wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear, she kept tensing up and letting out soft moans, so even if he had wanted to get up he would have found it nearly impossible. Hiro’s head was hurting again. It always did when he was around her.

“Delphinium to base.” Ichigo’s voice, coming through the comms link.

“We read you, Delphinium,” said Hachi at once.

“We’ve reached the floor of the mineshaft. All clear, no signs of movement.”

“Acknowledged. Fan out and scan the secondary shafts. Let us know if you find anything.”

“Roger.”

Hiro scratched the top of Zero Two’s head, behind her horns, and she purred exactly like a cat.

* * *

_Profile: Code 390 “Miku”_   
_Partner: Code 666 “Zorome”_   
_FRANXX: F-Mk1 Unit 2 “Argentea”_

Miku was shivering, even though her body had become a hulking 36-foot-tall close combat spec mecha with ample insulation in the cockpit.

Training couldn’t really prepare her for this. They had never been this far from the plantation, not once. Even during the startup exercises they had still been able to see the dome in the distance. It was so quiet down here that it was giving her the creeps. The sound of the wind had died out six levels up. The only thing she could hear was the _clunk clunk_ of the squad’s footsteps.

Zorome let out a loud, exasperated sigh, and let it play over the comms link for good measure. “Is there really nothing down here?”

“I hope not,” said Kokoro anxiously. “It’ll be nice if we get to just go home, won’t it?”

“Are you kidding me?” said Zorome, annoyed. “I wanted to kill some klaxosaurs. This sucks.”

He kicked a detached section of pipe lying on the ground and sighed. Miku giggled inwardly. Nervous she might be, but it was times like these when she was most thankful to have the dumb partner.

“Cut the chatter,” ordered Ichigo. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to fight klaxosaurs, one way or another. Fan out and search the tunnels. We’ll take the middle one. Argentea and Genista, take left and right.”

“Yes, Squad Leader,” said Zorome. Miku could sense him rolling his eyes.

“It’s so dark down here,” said Kokoro. “Are we really going to go off of visuals? Isn’t there a better way to detect them?”

“We can scan for magma leaks and seismic disturbances, but we don’t have anything for detecting klaxosaurs directly,” said Ichigo. “They don’t generate enough heat, and even if they did, there’d be too much interference here.”

“Right,” said Kokoro in a small voice. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Move out.”

Argentea was the smallest of the FRANXX, but even so, Zorome had to duck her head to fit through the hatchway that opened to the subshaft Ichigo had indicated. The _clunk_ of her footsteps echoed against the tunnel walls. Fluorescent lighting strips activated as she passed through, glowing weakly, illuminating the tunnel that stretched in front of them with flickering bluish light.

_Thank god the lights are still on._

_You’re scared of the dark? What are you, five?_

_Shut up, moron. It’s creepy down here. And it’s supposed to be full of klaxosaurs, did you forget that part?_

The lights were emitting a faint buzzing noise, but other than that and the sound of her footsteps, it was utterly silent down here. The construction of the place reminded Miku of the internals of Plantation 13, outside of Mistelteinn—layer upon layer of uniform tunnels with sterile undecorated walls, lit with cold light, unenticing, silent, deserted. Unlike the plantation, though, the walls here were stained gray in many places, probably from sediment leakage. It was hard to believe that a human being had ever come down here.

 _Humans didn’t come down here, idiot,_ said Zorome in her head. _The adults use mining robots._

_Why would mining robots need lights? They can just use sonar._

_How should I know? That’s just what I’ve heard._

_You sure “hear” a lot of things._

They had reached the first bend in the tunnel, about two hundred yards from the entrance. Miku hesitated. Once they turned, they would no longer be able to see the exit, and it would feel suddenly much easier to get lost down here.

 _Do you want to fight klaxosaurs or not?_ said Zorome, annoyed.

_Just give me a second._

_Miku, it’s a straight line._

_I know, I know. I just—_

She felt a painful jerk in the back of her head as Zorome impatiently moved Argentea forward. _Ouch! What the hell are you doing?_

_See? That wasn’t hard, and now we don’t have to stand in one spot for the rest of the day. Now we can go find some—_

His voice in her head cut off suddenly. They had both seen it. There was something black and shiny on the ceiling ahead of them, contrasting sharply with the sterile white walls. It was a half-sphere jutting out of the ceiling like a light fixture, almost perfectly round. Miku guessed that its diameter was roughly the same as Goro standing upright.

 _What the hell is that?_ said Miku.

_Only one way to find out._

Argentea moved forward until she was standing directly under the black thing. It did not move as they approached it. Zorome reached her arm up and poked the thing tentatively with Argentea’s pointer finger. It let out a high-pitched shriek, and what looked like an black-and-blue eye opened at the bottom of it, staring directly at them.

Zorome jumped back and swore loudly.

 _I didn’t know you were scared of klaxosaurs that small,_ observed Miku.

_Shut up. It just surprised me a little bit._

_Sure._

She unsheathed Night Claw. The weapon whined and glowed red as it powered up; Miku could feel the heat on Argentea’s face, coming off the claw blades.

_Ready?_

_Do it._

Miku gritted her teeth and stabbed her claw into the tiny klaxosaur’s open eye. Though its exoskeleton was rock-hard, the heated magma weapon cut through it as easily as butter. The thing shrieked with pain as the blade entered. Rapidly congealing blue blood poured out of the wound, coating her claw and arm.

Miku shook herself off with disgust. _Ugh. Gross._

 _That was it?_ said Zorome. _Wow, great. Why the hell did they even need us for this?_

_Maybe the others found more…_

A horrific noise crashed into her ears like a tidal wave. Miku dropped the Claw and staggered backwards, clutching her head in pain; the tunnel walls themselves were screaming at them. The ground was shaking. Something underfoot was rumbling.

 _Run,_ said Zorome immediately, his tone suddenly serious. _Something’s coming._

He didn’t need to say it twice. Miku seized Night Claw and sheathed it, and they turned and ran. She tapped the comms link as they rounded the bend in the tunnel.

“Argentea?” Ichigo’s voice came immediately. “We heard that. What’s going on?”

“Looks like some Conrads burrowed through the tunnel wall. We killed one. I think they noticed.”

“Roger. Regroup in the main shaft.”

The rumbling was growing louder, and the ground was shaking. Miku’s footing was unsteady as she ran; she could feel Zorome’s panicked hands at the controls shoving her forward, faster than she could keep up with—but there was the doorway, fifty yards ahead of them and growing closer all the time. She was starting to lose her balance.

“How many of them are there?” Futoshi’s voice in her ear was panicked. “Holy hell, that’s loud.”

 _Almost there,_ said Zorome.

Ahead of them, between themselves and the doorway to salvation, the tunnel walls folded like paper.

A mass of blackness, like the darkness of the underground was a liquid that was spilling out of the holes in the walls. Hundreds upon hundreds of skittering shining black spheres. They opened with seams like eyelids, and beneath their chitinous skin there were rows and rows of symmetrical mechanical teeth.

Someone in the FRANXX’s head was screaming. It might have been her. She and Zorome gathered their strength as one and jumped, propelling Argentea’s slim robot body over the oncoming horde that was spreading out across the tunnel floor like oil, and with an earsplitting crash she landed on her back on the floor of the main mineshaft. Delphinium and Genista were here already, Miku saw.

“Miku! Miku! Can you hear me?”

Someone was shouting in her ear. There was something cold and heavy weighing on her right arm. She struggled to sit up. The person yelling was Zorome. Idiot. Why couldn’t he just use the neural connection?

“Miku!” Someone else’s voice. Ichigo? What the hell were they all so concerned about? Miku tried to push herself into a sitting position, but her right arm wouldn’t budge. She heard Genista slam the hatch of the subshaft closed, and heard the skittering noise of the handful of klaxosaurs that had made it through. That’s right. That’s what they’d come here for, to kill klaxosaurs.

Her arm still wouldn’t move. Miku looked down in frustration, and saw that Argentea’s right upper arm terminated in a stump at the elbow, and at the end there protruded a mass of frayed wires which were sticky with bluish blood.

“Miku! Miku! Wake up!”

* * *

“HQ. HQ! Come in.”

Hiro had been half-dozing with Zero Two in his lap, but Ichigo’s urgent voice jerked him awake.

“We read you, Delphinium,” said Hachi immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“W-we’re in trouble.” He heard her raspy intake of breath over the comms link. “We found the infestation, and there’s something else down here. Something big. It’s not a Conrad. Also, Argentea is…i-injured.”

“Injured?” whispered Hiro.

“Is she conscious?”

“Zorome is responding, but Miku is…um...s-she’s alive, at least. HQ, we’re in trouble here. The power is out, and we can’t take the lift back up. We’re barricaded in subshaft E. Please advise.”

For the first time in living memory, Ichigo was speaking with a note of genuine panic. Instinctively Hiro tried to rise, though the weight of his partner kept him sitting. Instead, he looked up at Hachi urgently.

“Understood,” said Hachi. “Hold position for the moment, Delphinium. We’ll see if we can find you a way out.”

“No good,” replied Ichigo at once, the panic in her voice rising. “The other end of the shaft is caved in. We’re stuck here. We didn’t have another choice. They can dig through the walls, Hachi. I’m not sure how long we have. Please advise.”

“We’ll go!” said Hiro, his voice rising in alarm. “Strelizia can kill that thing. Come on, Zero Two, we should—”

“No,” said Hachi. “You’re not a parasite, and you’re not permitted to take part in combat missions.”

“I don’t care about that!” said Hiro angrily. Zero Two slid out of his lap and landed on the bench next to him, rubbing her eyes sleepily, freeing him to stand up and take a few steps toward the older man. “They’re in danger. Let us go.”

“Denied,” said Hachi, his voice devoid of emotion, as it always was. “Rules are rules.”

“Not if their lives are in danger!” shouted Hiro. “They’re—”

“Parasites,” finished Hachi. “They knew the risks going in.”

“That’s bullshit. You told us it wasn’t going to be dangerous.” Hiro’s fists were clenching reflexively in fury. He took another step toward Hachi, though the other did not react. “This is your fault. We’re the only ones who can help them. You have to let us go.”

“Well, _actually_ ,” said Mitsuru quietly, standing up. Hiro whipped around to look at him, and Hachi’s and Nana’s and Zero Two’s heads turned as well. Hiro hadn’t even known he was still here; Mitsuru had been dismissed to go back to Mistelteinn. Had he been sitting there all this time, watching them?

“Actually,” said Mitsuru again, tapping his lower lip contemplatively with his finger, staring down the bridge of his nose at Hiro’s partner. “Zero Two is the one that can help. She just needs a stamen.”

“What are you—?”

Mitsuru’s cold eyes were fixed on him, just like Hachi’s. The corner of his mouth was twisted into the slightest of smirks.

“I’m the only stamen here,” continued Mitsuru, turning away from Hiro to look at Nana. “Hiro’s right. If we don’t do something soon, Squad 13 is going to be wiped out. I volunteer to pilot with Code 002.”

Hiro looked at Zero Two, who was wearing the same uncomprehending look that she had done when Zorome had tried to offer to pilot with her at breakfast.

“That’s true,” said Nana, her brow creasing. “Mitsuru _is_ still prepared to pilot. Zero Two, how do you feel about—”

“No,” said Zero Two blankly. She looked at Nana, then Mitsuru, then back to Nana again. “Why would I pilot with him? I want to fly with Darling.”

Nana took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m aware of that. But Hiro isn’t authorized to pilot, and we don’t have a lot of time to argue the point. Zero Two, are you willing to pilot Strelizia with Mitsuru?”

“ _No_ ,” said Zero Two, louder this time, taking a step toward Nana. “You’re not listening to me, are you? I pilot with Darling, or not at all. You feel the same way, don’t you, Darling?”

“Of course I do.” Hiro looked from one aide’s face to the other, panic and exasperation boiling inside him. “So let us go.”

“As an unqualified parasite, if you attempt to board a FRANXX and pilot, you’ll be considered a hostile target and we’ll be forced to take necessary countermeasures,” said Hachi. “Including incapacitating Strelizia.”

Zero Two’s mouth gaped open. She stared at Hachi in bewilderment.

“However, you’re allowed to pilot with Mitsuru,” continued Hachi. “In which case—”

“I’m _not_ piloting with him!” said Zero Two, her voice rising to a shout. She turned to Hiro in desperation, eyes flashing. “Darling—”

“Go with him.”

He could see at once that she had not understood what he’d said—as if he’d suddenly spoken a different language. Hiro gritted his teeth and clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palm, preparing for what he was about to do. Like ripping off a bandage, but a thousand times more painful.

“W-what?” said Zero Two.

“Go with Mitsuru.” A sudden needle-like pain stabbed his temples, and he flinched. “Zero Two, please. Save them. Next time I’ll fly with you. Please trust me this time.”

Her arms, which had been crossed defiantly across her chest, hung limply at her sides.

“But…” Zero Two’s voice was about to splinter into a hundred pieces. “You said…”

“I know what I said. But if you don’t go with Mitsuru, my friends are going to die.”

Hiro tried to speak once more, to explain himself, or apologize, or even to wish her good luck, but his voice died in his throat. Zero Two’s gaze was fixed on him, and it was smoldering with hurt and betrayal. He would gladly have fought a hundred klaxosaurs bare-handed rather than endure this.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “If that’s what you want…Darling.”

For the first time, the word hit him like a gut punch.

Mitsuru grinned.

Zero Two had been yanked out of her cozy little private world in Darling’s arms and the whole world was too loud and too bright and too vivid again.

She hated it. She hated all of them—especially the boy with the colorless hair and the dead eyes, the one whose very presence made her skin crawl, whose harsh and acrid scent reminded her of her childhood. She could feel it again, tickling at the edges of her vision, and the open cockpit of Strelizia was like the hungry mouth of some grotesque titanic animal. When she joined with Strelizia again, the two of them would become that singular monster, and her fury would overheat and spill out in every direction—that awful heat that only Darling had ever been able to soothe, and Zero Two paused for a moment to focus on _that_ sensation, that heavenly icy calmness that was like sinking into a cool bath with hot and blistered feet.

Perhaps Darling would be able to soothe this anger too, but she hated him just as much as the others, or more. As divine as it had been to curl up in his arms and simply exist and be adored, the agony of being rejected was equal or greater—and of course, she knew perfectly well why he had asked, and that what he had asked was perfectly reasonable, and that was what she hated most of all.

“Are you ready?”

Her interim partner’s voice was slick and oily, like his hair and like the snakelike way he moved, and her insides curled up in disgust. Zero Two took a deep breath to calm herself and concentrate.

“Let’s go.”

She reached out to Strelizia and the FRANXX met her eagerly.

* * *

_Profile: Code 326 “Mitsuru”_   
_Partner: Code 002 (temporarily)_   
_FRANXX: F-Prototype Unit 3 “Strelizia” (temporarily)_

Mitsuru had opened his eyes for the first time. This girl couldn’t even be from the same planet as Ikuno. Overwhelming waves of boundless power, as though he had tapped directly into the sun. It was like riding on the back of a tiger.

He had been right all along. Hiro was nothing special, after all—it was this girl that had saved them, this girl and her extraordinary FRANXX.

_I wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t my fault._

He had always been fit to pilot. Partnering with Ikuno had been holding him back. He had sacrificed everything to be in Squad 13. It was all worth it. It was finally worth it. Though his body sat idle as his nerves connected to the FRANXX, his eyes were flooding with relieved tears. 

* * *

Zero Two didn’t know how long she could hold on.

The presence of the cold-eyed boy in the cockpit made her feel as though she had swallowed something poisonous. She struggled with all her might to block out the sensation, to block out the sickening oily flood of emotions that was coming out of the stamen’s mind and intruding on her own, like he was shouting it in her face. They were so intense she could taste each one of them—resentment, arrogance, triumph. Her head was spinning.

 _I knew it,_ he was saying. _I knew it. Hiro was nothing special, after all._

She said nothing.

_This is amazing. We should partner from now on. We’ll be the strongest parasites humanity has ever seen._

Zero Two felt his wide, gloating smile in her mind. Her vision was beginning to blur, and her head was spinning. She had only shreds of patience left, and his voice was boring into her skull like a drill. _I’m going to pilot with Darling._

_Hiro? He’s a coward. He just stood there and let Hachi tell him what to do. Isn’t it pathetic?_

_Darling isn’t a coward._

_You met him a week ago. I’ve known him his whole life. Trust me, he’ll show you his true colors soon._ His grin was wide and catlike. _I know he’s a special parasite or whatever, but you’ll be much happier once you drop him and partner with someone who’s actually passed the aptitude tests. Like me._

And then her vision had gone, and she no longer could feel or understand anything other than the boiling white hot fury that Strelizia was eagerly holding in wait for her. The division between them had vanished. She had become the lionlike beast, and the beast had become her, and her muscles quivered with power and there were masses and masses of klaxosaurs here that she could rip limb from limb.

The stamen’s gloating confidence was gone. In its place she could detect nothing but terror.

_W-what the…what the hell are you?_

Zero Two was a monster whose job it was to kill other monsters, and kill she did. The klaxosaurs sensed her presence and attacked, and she welcomed them. Their hides were crushed between her jaws until her mouth and neck and body were soaked in their bluish blood, until the empty husks were piled ankle-deep on the floor of the mineshaft, until the screaming inside her head stopped and the stamen in the cockpit was not moving anymore.


	4. Birdcage

_Profile: Code 666 “Zorome”_  
_Partner: Code 390 “Miku”_  
_FRANXX: F-Mk1 Unit 2 “Argentea”_

Zorome was having a bad dream. He was sitting in Argentea’s cockpit, and the FRANXX was silent, unresponsive to his controls. Two pigtails of red hair were dangling in front of his eyes. The girl to whom they belonged sagged in the cradle, unmoving, her skin chalk-white. It couldn’t have been Miku, of course. Miku was loud, irritating, constantly arguing with him. He wondered who the girl in front of him was, and why she resembled his partner so much. His limbs would not move.

There was a crunching noise outside the cockpit and an earsplitting shriek, though muted by the layers of metal that separated the two of them from the outside world.

“Is that—”

“Strelizia.”

People were talking in his ear. Numbly, Zorome lifted his hand to grip the emergency handle that disengaged the cradle, and pulled. The girl with the pigtails fell limply backward into his lap. It looked like Miku, too. And it smelled like her, and it was wearing the same pistil suit that she always wore. But she was pale and her eyes were closed and her mouth was sagging open and—

“Strelizia, is that you?” Ichigo was calling over the comms link. “Hiro? Zero Two? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

There was a cough of static. A split second of some kind of incoherent yelling—a male voice. Strelizia’s comms cut out.

“Strelizia!” shouted Ichigo.

“Squad 13, come in.”

“Hachi...?”

“We’ve sent Strelizia in. She’s handling the infestation. I’m engaging the backup power on level eight, so the lift will be online momentarily. Evacuate immediately.”

“Right.” Zorome could hear the squad leader hyperventilating over comms. “Right. Okay. Understood, HQ. Zorome. How is Miku?”

“She’s unconscious.” He heard his own voice in his ears, responding to Ichigo. “Still breathing, but she’s not gonna be able to connect, so we’re not going anywhere.”

“Roger. Genista, take her right arm. I’ll take the left.”

Zorome heard a jarring thud of metal on metal as the cockpit abruptly jerked upwards. Not-Miku was lying across his lap, her head sagging to the side. His hand moved unconsciously to flick the switch on the right armrest, and the walls of the metal capsule surrounding them faded to transparency. Fluorescent lights flickered in the ceiling lighting strips. Delphinium and Genista had hefted him and Not-Miku into the air. Their legs were dangling, dragging along the shaft floor.

Genista forced open the hatch.

He was certain now that this was a dream. This door didn’t lead to the same place it had half an hour ago. It was the same shape as the mineshaft they had fled from, but the floor was coated in two feet of something semi-solid, something black and blue, the same color as the klaxosaurs, with the same hexagonal markings that they had. It was like something had shredded the thousands-strong horde into tiny pieces. But nothing could have done that, not even a FRANXX, and they were built specifically to kill klaxosaurs…

Across the shaft there were two massive shapes still moving—one blue and black, asymmetrical, snakelike, with a slit in its side revealing rows of spiky teeth, like the tiny Conrad-classes that Zorome vaguely remembered fighting before his dream had began. The other was oddly colored, but no less beastlike—some kind of spiky, angular quadruped, white-skinned with red accents, though he could see that its entire body was caked in the remains of destroyed klaxosaurs.

They had all come down here to fight klaxosaurs, he remembered, but if the beasts were going to fight amongst themselves, Zorome would be happy to leave them to it.

The two functional FRANXX that remained had pulled him and Miku to the lift platform in the center of the shaft. Delphinium slammed the control one of the support beams; haltingly, the platform rumbled to life, and they began to rise, leaving the two monsters on the mineshaft floor to their own devices. The rumbling and shrieking noises continued. Zorome could feel them vibrating in his bones.

“Thank god,” said Kokoro in barely more than a whisper, her words hardly audible through the rasping sound of her panting. “Thank god. Thank god.”

“Am I dreaming?” said Zorome.

There was a solid five seconds of silence.

“W-what?” Futoshi’s voice was quavering. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you alright, Zorome-kun?”

“C’mon, stop freaking them out.” Goro sounded slightly annoyed. “This is not the time.”

“Don’t mess with me. What the fuck is happening? What’s wrong with Miku? Why did we—what the fuck was that thing in the mineshaft? What was it? It’s not a klaxosaur. Klaxosaurs are black. What the fuck was it?” He could feel his heart pounding. He shoved the Not-Miku thing off his lap angrily, and she slumped against the front console. “What’s going on?”

“Breathe, Zorome.”

The right panel of the cockpit, formerly translucent, flickered with static, and he could see Delphinium’s face.

“Remember the breathing exercises? Breathe in, count to five, breathe out. Do ten for me. Miku will be alright. We need to get out of the mine, okay? Just sit tight and we’ll be out soon.”

He breathed. His hands were trembling.

_Don’t say anything until we’re out,_ pleaded his partner softly in Goro’s head.

_I know. You think he’s gonna be okay?_

_I hope so._

_That thing in the mineshaft…_

He could feel her consciousness recoiling from the question, but he needed to be sure.

_That was Strelizia, wasn’t it?_

Delphinium’s hatch slid open. Ichigo coughed as a blast of warm desert wind struck her in the face. Goro had climbed out of the pilot’s seat already, so the two of them sat side by side at the edge of the open hatch. She shielded her eyes from the sun with one arm, though it was trembling with the effort.

Now was usually the time that Goro would ruffle her hair, and give her a thumbs up and say _Nice work._ But neither parasite greeted each other; they were watching, with bated breath, the gaping silent mouth of the mine that they had left, listening to the metallic rumbling of the lift as it hauled up another load.

The sharp, triangular head breached the surface first, its faceplate blank and unmoving. The angular shoulders next, the slim body, and the Queen Pike lying across her lap; everything was coated so thickly in klaxosaur blood that it would have been hard to tell what Strelizia’s original color was.

The lift halted with a clunk. Ichigo felt Goro’s arm stiffen next to her. He was bracing himself for something. She could feel herself doing the same.

Strelizia’s hatch creaked open. The girl with the pink hair emerged and collapsed immediately to her knees, her face upturned to the sun. Even from fifty yards away, Ichigo could see that her face and suit were also covered in blood, though unlike that which coated Strelizia, it was red.

“Where…where is he?” Ichigo mumbled. “Goro…where’s…why is she alone?”

The pink-maned head turned toward them.

“Hiro!” Ichigo screamed.

* * *

Fifty kilometers away, slumped on a bench in the briefing room, Hiro heard her.

He heard, but didn’t process it. His eyes were fixed on the screen. Once Squad 13 had broken the surface, they’d been able to reestablish the video link, and now he could look upon the scene through Delphinium’s eyes, at the indistinct smear of red pixels that was the only evidence he had that Zero Two was still alive.

“Hiro!” screamed Ichigo again.

“I’m here.”

He heard her let out a deep, shuddering gasp. “Hiro. Hiro! Are you alive?”

“I’m at HQ.”

Four seconds of silence; he counted them using his heartbeat.

“You’re what?”

“I’m at HQ. I didn’t fly with Zero Two.”

“Then…” He could hear Ichigo’s tension deflating, leaving bewilderment in its wake. “Then…then what happened? Did she pilot alone?”

“No. She went with Mitsuru.”

“She what?” breathed Ichigo.

Hiro said nothing.

There was an indistinct clamor of voices on the comms link, and he saw an APE medical transport skid into Delphinium’s view, stopping a few yards from Strelizia’s feet, kicking up a spray of sand against the FRANXX’s legs. A number of white-suited figures emerged from it; two of them climbed Strelizia, and one disappeared inside her open mouth while the other moved toward Zero Two, seemingly to check if she was alright. Moments later the first white figure emerged. Something gray was draped across its shoulders, and it looked to be bending down, shouting something to the other medics that were awaiting them on the ground.

Hiro heard Ichigo’s sharp intake of breath. Cold dread was making his fingertips feel numb. Mitsuru was not moving.

* * *

Though their nervous systems and minds were connected to the FRANXX, and they felt sympathetic pain when it was damaged, parasites were not actually expected to sustain physical injuries when piloting. The cradle system and heavily padded restraints in the pilot’s seat were designed to keep the human occupants as secure as possible, to protect their valuable brains from trauma so that they could continue piloting for as long as possible.

When Squad 13 were finally allowed to visit Mitsuru in the medical facility, they saw that his body was covered in scrapes and gashes, though they were bandaged now; there was a patch of skin on his cheek that had been entirely removed, as though it had been cleanly scooped out using a scalpel. There was no equipment in Strelizia’s cockpit which would cause such an injury.

Which meant…

“Psst!” hissed Zorome, interrupting Hiro’s train of thought. “Get on with it, dude. Go in there and apologize to him. This whole mess is your fault, isn’t it?”

“Hiro-kun didn’t do anything,” whispered Kokoro. “I don’t see a need to blame him for this.”

“It’s _his_ partner!” said Zorome angrily, though he remembered to keep his voice low. “Hiro let her go and fly with someone else, and look what happened. I told you guys, didn’t I? Flying with her is like a death sentence.”

“I didn’t _let_ her do anything,” said Hiro quietly. “I asked her to help us, and she chose to. She’s her own person.”

“Does she even count as a person?”

Hiro bit back a retort and pushed roughly past Zorome. The other parasites stood at the doorway, most of them watching him anxiously, except for Zorome and Miku, who had begun arguing about Zero Two.

Someone had erected curtains around Mitsuru’s bed since yesterday, the previous time the squad had visited; he hadn’t regained consciousness then, so they had nothing to do except stare and speculate on his mental well-being.

Hiro approached the foot of the bed tentatively, where a gap in the curtains was letting in a narrow shaft of light, and peered inside. Mitsuru was sitting upright with his back propped against the pillow, clutching his head in his hands. There was a tray of obviously untouched food lying on the bedspread, and as Hiro’s shadow fell across it, Mitsuru’s head jerked upwards in alarm.

Mitsuru was unrecognizable. His hair, always glossy and slicked back, was plastered across his sweaty forehead. His eyes were wild and staring, horrified, meeting Hiro’s gaze without comprehension. Hiro felt his stomach turn. He had expected anger or scorn or even numbness once Mitsuru realized that he had come to visit.

“Mitsuru—” he began, not knowing what he wanted to say.

“Hiro.” Mitsuru scrambled to his knees in bed, sending the tray of bread and soup tumbling to the floor with a loud crash. “Hiro—you’re alive. You’re alive. For God’s sake, stay away from her.” He reached up and clutched the front of Hiro’s shirt spasmodically.

Hiro heard footsteps and murmurs as the other parasites followed him in to the room, alerted by the sound of the falling tray.

“What are you talking about?”

“That girl,” panted Mitsuru, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “She’s a monster.”

“Calm down.” Hiro grasped Mitsuru’s wrists and tried to prize his hands off his shirt, but Mitsuru shook him off angrily.

“I’m not going to calm down!” Mitsuru shouted. “She’s not human! Humans don’t pilot like that! She was…she wanted to…I can still f-feel it.” He let go of Hiro’s shirt with one hand and gripped the front of his own hospital gown over his heart. “She wanted my blood. She wanted my…my soul. She was trying to kill me, Hiro.”

“What’s going on?” said Zorome loudly from behind them.

"That’s what you felt, too, right?” demanded Mitsuru, his voice rising almost to a scream, though their faces were less than a foot apart now. “She eats stamens. She _eats_ them! Stop looking at me like I’m crazy! Y-you’re the crazy one. You put yourself through that because you found a partner? You’re fucking sick!”

“Hey, hey, break it up,” said Zorome, his voice now directly next to Hiro’s head, and Hiro could feel the other parasite’s arms forcing the two of them apart.

“Don’t act like you’re better than us!” shouted Mitsuru. “She’s going to feed on you, just like she did with the others!”

Hiro stepped backward a few paces as Zorome pushed Mitsuru, who had become incoherent, back down into a sitting position. Kokoro and Futoshi were standing close together, five yards from the bedside; both were watching the scene with slightly open mouths. Futoshi half-raised one hand as Hiro passed, looking like he wanted to grab his shoulder, but Hiro shook him off.

He threw open the door and nearly collided with Ichigo in the hallway.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Hiro.” Her eyes flicked to the open doorway behind him, then back to his face. Her gaze was penetrating. “I didn’t know you were here. Something happen?”

“Not really.” Hiro clenched and unclenched his fist reflexively, half-glancing back toward the open door, through which they could still hear occasional angry vocalizations from Mitsuru. “He’s…upset.”

“I figured. You saw what Zero Two did to him, didn’t you?”

“He volunteered,” said Hiro quietly, clenching his fist again. “Don’t put this on her.”

“You’re joking, right?” Ichigo took a step forward, until she was standing so close that Hiro could not avoid her eyes. Her arms were crossed across her chest. “You saw his face, didn’t you? What do _you_ think happened? What else could have done that to him?”

“She would’ve had to disconnect from Strelizia if she wanted to attack him.” _Attack him._ The words tasted bitter coming out of his mouth. His Zero Two wouldn’t have done anything like that to another parasite, not even to Mitsuru. “I piloted with her and I wasn’t hurt. How do you explain that?”

Ichigo’s lip curled. “She’s still dangerous, Hiro. I mean, even if she doesn’t hurt you…you didn’t see how Strelizia was in the mine—she went berserk.”

He tried to push past her to leave, but Ichigo reached out and grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask if I can pilot with Zero Two again.”

She let go of him. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah.” Hiro stepped past her and into the corridor. He was going to look for Zero Two. “Just leave us alone.”

Ichigo’s eyes flashed as she turned to watch him leave.

“What do you mean by _us_?”

* * *

There had been no sign of her in the hangar, the dorms, or—as he had feared most—near the lake in the forest, and there were no other places within the plantation that Hiro was allowed to search without S-class authorization. His idea had been pointless all along. He returned to Mistelteinn and ran a bath.

If he closed his eyes and submerged himself fully in the steaming tub, the warmth almost reminded him of piloting with Zero Two. _Almost._ He remembered bitterly the feeling of washing her face, the tint of pink on her cheeks, the soft tickle of her hair on his lap as they had sat together almost nude in the bath after their first flight. He thought of Mitsuru’s wide terrified eyes and the papery yellow skin stretched across his face. The man Zero Two had cast out of Strelizia’s cockpit, her first partner, had had the same papery look, and his face, too, had been covered in injuries.

Why couldn’t they just be left alone?

Hiro surfaced for air and wiped the water out of his eyes. He had been seized by a sudden desire to lie down and sleep—maybe he’d be allowed to dream about her, at least, even if Mitsuru’s pale hollow face kept intruding on his thoughts. He braced his arms on the sides of the tub to raise himself out, then froze when he heard the creak of the bathroom door opening. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

Who would be coming in the boys’ bath in the middle of the day? The parasites would be gone till evening on training exercises, and none of the adults ever visited Mistelteinn, other than Nana and Hachi, who never used the baths here regardless.

Hiro glanced at the mirror at the back of the room, but it was too clouded with steam to make anything out; he carefully lowered himself back into the water and turned toward the door, waiting.

He heard the clunk of boots on the floor, and his heart began to pound. The only people he could think of that would enter the Mistelteinn baths wearing boots were APE guards. Hiro wondered wildly if he had somehow been blamed for Mitsuru’s injuries—or maybe APE couldn't find Zero Two, and they had come here to question him—or the doctor had called for him again—or—

The silhouette of the newcomer approached him through the mist, and his pounding heart rate switched gears. He recognized that curtain of hair, and those horns—

Zero Two stepped into the bath, fully clothed, and the water lapped around the tops of her boots. Instinctively Hiro covered his groin with both hands.

“Z-Zero Two!” he gasped.

“Found you,” she said, and she stepped forward and bent down so that their eyes were level. The scent of soap and steam in his nostrils was suddenly banished, overwhelmed by that unique smell that always hung around Zero Two. His temples throbbed with sudden pain and he let out an involuntary vocalization.

“W-what are you doing in here?” said Hiro, his head spinning. Her sudden appearance had caught him utterly off-guard, and he was, of course, naked. He could feel his cheeks reddening. He would not have been surprised to see a flirty smirk on her lips; he _was_ surprised to see that her mouth was set in a hard line and that she did not even seem to notice his nakedness.

“Hey, Darling,” Zero Two said softly, her face moving even closer to his until they were barely two inches apart. Light from the ceiling fixtures was reflecting off the surface of the bath, glinting on her face and her fangs. “Want to run away with me?”

Hiro’s brain was lagging behind her, as it always did. “I…um...”

“You’re the only person that can be my partner,” she continued, dipping her head slightly so that her horns almost touched his forehead. “We can leave this place, together. We don’t need those weaklings. You said you would come with me, didn’t you?”

“Wait,” said Hiro. “Slow down. Why now? Did something happen?”

Her already thin-lipped expression hardened into anger. “You promised me, didn’t you?”

“Zero Two,” Hiro said again, and he reached up to grab her shoulders with both hands. She shivered at his sudden touch. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? What happened?”

Something in her eyes changed. He realized that she was looking past him.

“I see,” she murmured. “You’re afraid of me, too, aren’t you?”

“No,” said Hiro, so loudly his voice echoed off the bathroom walls. The look in her eyes was burning a hole in his chest. He had never seen Zero Two look so distant and lonely. “I’m not. Why would I be afraid of you? Because of what happened to Mitsuru?”

Without thinking, he stood up, sending a small wave of bath water lapping around her boots. “Is that why? Are you not allowed to stay in Plantation 13 anymore?”

Zero Two took a step backwards, and for a long moment they stared at each other in silence. She opened her mouth to speak, but the stillness of the room was shattered by a thunderous alarm sound.

Hiro gritted his teeth in pain as the noise rattled through his skull. Vibrations rippled through the surface of the bath, and the light fixtures flickered. He had the emergency alarm only once before—when the beast had attacked Naomi’s transport, the one he was supposed to board—and from the look on her face, he could tell that Zero Two recognized it just as well as he did.

“Klaxosaur,” she said, and he nodded.

Hiro stepped out of the bath and seized a towel from the rack on the wall, wrapping it around his lower body. Zero Two was staring intensely at him.

“They’re going to need us,” said Hiro. “Let’s get ready, Zero Two. Let’s fly together again today.”

* * *

The tramway that ran between the medical complex and the entrance to Mistelteinn was silent.

Ichigo was sitting at the midpoint of the carriage, opposite the automatic doors. The rest of her squadmates lined the wall on either side. She glanced from face to face; none of them were speaking to each other, and if they noticed her, they quickly looked away. No adults were visible outside the tram windows, either—though, after all, there rarely were. Ichigo sometimes wondered where they stayed. Maybe there was another Mistelteinn hidden somewhere in the depths of the massive domed structure, though it was hard to imagine as she sat here, with uniform endless unbroken white walls always flickering past them on both sides.

Secretly she was glad that Mitsuru was bedridden. Of everyone in Squad 13, Ikuno was the only one that was more relaxed and at ease than she had been before the incident. Part of the reason, of course, was that she was away from her “partner.” And the other half was because she had not seen the thing that Strelizia turned into down in the mines.

Ichigo rubbed her eyes angrily with the heels of her hands until muted colors sparkled behind her eyelids.

She still hated Zero Two. The pistil had monopolized their conversations and Ichigo’s worries since her arrival. Now, surely, they were finally going to get a moment of rest. Mitsuru had been badly injured, and whatever else she felt about him, he was still an official member of Plantation 13’s defense force. At best, HQ would have the klaxosaur girl relocated back to wherever she came from. At worst, she’d be court-martialed. Ichigo fleetingly imagined herself on the witness’ stand.

And with Zero Two’s departure, Hiro would be…

“We need to work harder,” said Kokoro in a small voice, shattering the silence that had lain heavily over the carriage.

“Eh?” said Futoshi, turning in surprise to look at her.

“No need to be so loud,” said Zorome irritably. He leaned his head back against the window glass, looking sideways at Kokoro through lidded eyes. “Also, what are you talking about?”

“We…we really didn’t do very well, did we?” said Kokoro, her voice growing even quieter. “On our mission.”

Boots shuffled uncomfortably on the tram floor.

“That wasn’t _our_ fault,” said Miku, sitting up straight. Her red hair seemed to glow slightly with indignation. “We got bad intel. HQ could have gotten us all killed.”

“I know…” said Kokoro. She was gazing down at her own knees now. “But seeing Mitsuru-kun like that was…scary. And you, Miku-chan. I know you’re alright now, but we were all so worried about you. It’s just…this is the real world now, isn’t it? We can’t just make mistakes like that. It’s lucky Strelizia was—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” snarled Zorome, straightening his neck and glaring across the tram carriage at the silver-haired girl. “Don’t bring _her_ into this again, please, for the love of Papa. Look what she did to—”

Ichigo cleared her throat loudly, and both parties flinched.

“Ichigo-chan,” said Kokoro, her eyes wide and concerned as she turned to look at the squad leader. “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? If Stre—I mean, if we hadn’t gotten help…”

“I know,” said Ichigo quietly. “You’re right.”

She raised her feet off the floor and hugged her knees to her chest.

“It’s not something I wanted to bring up so soon,” she continued, “but Kokoro is right. Whatever else happens on missions, it’s vital that we learn to work together as a team. We’ve been lucky so far. But we aren’t always going to have someone to swoop in and save us, and we need to be able to rely on each other when that happens.”

Ichigo listened to the rattling of the carriage on the rails.

“Does that include Hiro?” said Futoshi.

She gritted her teeth. “Once he finds a partner and he’s qualified as a parasite, yes. But right now—”

“But he has one,” objected Kokoro. “They just—”

“Zero Two isn’t staying here,” said Ichigo in barely more than a whisper. “Once she leaves, Hiro will need to find his own way.”

Another beat of silence.

“That’s so sad,” whispered Kokoro. “To be separated from your partner…”

“It’s not a choice we get to make,” said Goro.

“But still…” Kokoro looked down at her lap again. She sniffed. “I can’t imagine being alone like that. As it is, we have nothing but each other and the FRANXX. If I had to say goodbye to Futoshi-kun…”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Futoshi with a nervous chuckle.

“You guys are giving me the creeps.” Zorome was shivering. “Let’s just…let’s just get back to Mistelteinn and have some dinner and rest, yeah?”

“Good idea,” agreed Goro. “We can talk about heavy stuff in the morning.”

He ruffled Ichigo’s hair gently. A few strands of her hair escaped her hair clip and splayed across her forehead.

“I’m hungry,” murmured Futoshi. “I wonder when—”

The silence of the carriage erupted into an earsplitting droning noise. The parasites of Squad 13 all clapped their hands to their ears in panic.

Ichigo saw her squadmates around her exchanging panicked looks with each other. The alarm sound was extraordinarily loud, especially here in the tram; Ichigo knew that it was designed to be audible throughout the entire plantation, and she also recognized the sound, though she was not sure if the others did.

She felt the weight of Goro’s hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. His face was set in grim determination. He’d recognized it too.

 _Klaxosaur,_ his eyes were saying.

_I know._

* * *

Strelizia was not in the hangar.

Hiro skidded to a halt on the catwalk in front of the space where the FRANXX normally stood. Zero Two was standing opposite it, glaring so intensely at the blank wall that he thought she might be able to materialize Strelizia by sheer force of will. Only Chlorophytum remained in the hangar; the other FRANXX must have left to engage the klaxosaur, but Mitsuru was still too unwell to pilot.

The feeling of cold dread that had been gathering at the back of Hiro’s mind grew in intensity as he stared at the vacant space where Strelizia should have been.

“Where is she?” he asked Zero Two, but she shook her head convulsively. She would not meet his eyes. Hiro saw both of her hands clutching the railing tightly, knuckles white.

He needed to do something.

“I’ll ask Nana.” Hiro placed his own hand over Zero Two’s curled fist and gave her a gentle tug. “She’ll know what’s going on. Let’s go.”

* * *

“We’ve got boots on the ground, HQ.”

“ _Roger. Based on sonar imaging, it seems to be a worm-type, seventy to eighty meters in length. Unclassified. We’re sending you the last detected location._ ”

“Thanks.”

“ _Be advised, Delphinium. It burrows and can travel underground extremely quickly. Expect attacks from below._ ”

“Understood.”

Though she didn’t much enjoy combat, Ichigo was thankful for the air-conditioned armored cockpit of Delphinium at a time like this. The sun was blazing down on them. She couldn’t feel it, but she could hear—and see—the hissing of sand being whipped against her faceplate. They were traveling at nearly two hundred klicks now. The boosters on Delphinium’s back and in the soles of her feet were creating a soft ambient hum in the cockpit.

“Hey,” called Miku. “I think we have a visual, Squad Leader. Is that it?”

Ichigo tried to squint in the direction Argentea indicated, though the FRANXX’s visual scanners had no analogue for the motion. Argentea also had the strongest visual magnification of any of them; she was indicating a grayish-brown speck on the horizon, which was trailed by what looked like a cloud of smoke—probably a dust cloud kicked up by the klaxosaur’s movement, if it was a klaxosaur after all.

“Likely. Approach and engage.”

“Got it.” Argentea pulled slightly ahead of the formation. _Formation,_ thought Ichigo wryly. There were only three of them.

“This is it,” she told the group at large, over comms. “We’re shorthanded, but it doesn’t matter. I believe in all of you. I know we can do this.”

* * *

Except for Nana, the briefing room was deserted. Hiro cleared his throat loudly as they entered, and she whipped around in surprise, her waves of curly hair slightly disheveled. Her brow knitted in exasperation as she registered who her visitors were.

“Nana,” said Hiro. “Where’s—?”

“What are you two doing here?” interrupted Nana, her eyes flashing. They flicked to the doorway through which Hiro had entered, then back to his face. “You’re still not authorized to pilot. We’re not deploying Strelizia. Changing into your suits isn’t going to help.”

Zero Two let out a soft noise of annoyance. Hiro could see one of her fangs gleaming in the room’s fluorescent light.

“We don’t have time for this,” said Hiro angrily. “They’re already shorthanded, since Mitsuru is injured. I’ll take it directly to Papa if I have to. We—”

“Who just landed in that transport plane?” cut in Zero Two.

_Transport plane?_

Hiro looked uncomprehendingly between Zero Two and Nana. Some kind of understanding had passed wordlessly between them.

“What’s going on?” he said quietly. His head was spinning again—it wasn’t the faint, aromatic euphoria that infected him whenever he was around Zero Two, but something else entirely—something was about to happen, something that he had been dreading.

As it had been in the bath, his train of thought was interrupted by the thudding of boots.

Hiro turned. His fingertips were cold and numb with shock. A group of masked APE guards, perhaps eight of them, had entered the briefing room quietly behind them; their faces were all impassive and identical, and though they all carried firearms, two of the guards had already drawn them.

“Zero Two?” he breathed.

“…is leaving,” finished Nana. Her eyes were darting to each of the masked faces of the APE guards in turn. Nana clasped her hands together, and as she spoke again, she inclined her head slightly in Zero Two’s direction. “Zero Two, your assignment in Plantation 13 is complete. Your service has been appreciated. Best of luck.”

“Leaving?” repeated Hiro blankly.

This was a joke. It had to be—it was some elaborate practical joke all orchestrated by the doctor. Zero Two had told Doctor Frank that they would pilot together, and the doctor had nodded and agreed with her, and he had even assigned Zero Two to the same plantation where Hiro lived—what the hell was going on?

“Code 002, the transport is waiting,” said one of the indistinguishable masked guards, stepping forward. “You’re coming with us.”

The man placed a gloved hand on Zero Two’s shoulder. Hiro watched as her eyes, her bright bluish-green eyes with the circles in the irises that he had counted over and over, the eyes with a color that Hiro was confident did not exist anywhere else in the universe, suddenly glowed red, and her lip curled back to expose her fangs.

“ _Don’t_ touch me.”

It happened so quickly that Hiro could barely track her with his eyes; she shrugged off the gloved hand and turned 180 degrees so that their bodies squarely faced each other; she placed her palm on the man’s chest and pushed, and Hiro heard the _oof_ as the air was forced out of his lungs, and his body was picked up and flung backwards like a leaf caught in a gust of wind, skidding across the floor of the briefing room until he slammed into the back wall.

Several of the other guards let out shouts of surprise. Those who had not already drawn their weapons did so now, and Zero Two’s bright red pistil suit was suddenly covered in the dots of laser sights. She froze. Every muscle in her body tautened, quivering, readying herself to attack.

“Stop it!” shouted Hiro.

Helplessly he reached toward Zero Two, and at the sound of his voice, he saw the haze in her eyes clear; her posture loosened slightly; she blinked and looked back at him. She stepped forward. He heard a series of _clicks_ as the guards readied their weapons. In the thick-soled boots of the pistil suit, she was slightly taller than him. Her aura was starting to become overwhelming; he could feel it pulsing around her like a heartbeat.

Zero Two placed her hands on his shoulders, as he had done to her in the bath not ten minutes ago. Hiro’s vision was beginning to blur. Her eyes and her horns and her fangs all seemed to be glowing with heat. She was smiling brightly at him, though the expression was hollow. She leaned forward slightly, and whispered, so that only he could hear her.

“It was lovely being your partner, Darling.”

Hiro reached up to touch her face, but his strength failed him.

“I thought we could have made it work,” said Zero Two. “I liked you a lot. But this is goodbye.”

She closed her eyes and dipped her head, and the tips of her horns touched his forehead, and the points of contact burned white-hot. Hiro took a sharp breath. Zero Two straightened up and flashed her smile at him. The final time. Her eyes were very bright.

“All done?” said one of the guards sourly. “Great. Move it.”

His partner stepped away from him and turned toward the door, and the guards closed in formation around her until the only thing that he could still see was a receding curtain of smooth pink hair that was the exact color of a cherry blossom.

* * *

They were close enough now for the weak thermal imaging scanners on the FRANXX to be able to pick up the beast underground.

The tech wasn’t as advanced as the sensor array back at the plantation, so what Ichigo could see—on a colored, hazy-edged panel, floating in the corner of her vision—was little more than a colored blob sliding toward them underground. Even as blurry as the image was, the sight of it had a shiver running down her spine. Hachi’s number had been accurate—the klaxosaur was at least eighty meters long, and even as large as Delphinium was, if the klaxosaur decided to surface, all three of them would look like gnats standing before a hungry snake.

 _Ichigo._ A gentle nudge from her partner.

_I’m here._

She glanced up at the HUD. The colored blob had changed trajectory.

“It saw us,” said Miku. “Squad Leader?”

“It’s an unknown class, so we’re going in blind,” said Ichigo.

Zorome swore over the comms link. “Again?”

“We stop here. Defensive formation,” continued Ichigo, ignoring the interruption. “Hold position. Argentea, you and I hold forward. We’ll lure it in. Genista, prime a flash mortar.”

“Nice,” said Goro appreciatively, over comms so everyone could hear him compliment her. “It’s a burrowing type, so—”

“—so it might be sensitive to heat and light,” finished Ichigo. “It’s worth a shot.”

“The wonder kids strike again,” muttered Zorome.

The three FRANXX decelerated, sending thirty-foot-high sprays of sand into the air. Ichigo blinked instinctively again as the wind caught it and flung it into her face. Genista detached Rook Sparrow from her back, spread the stabilizer legs at the base and buried it firmly in the sand at her feet, angled forward.

“Does that look good?” asked Kokoro, anxious.

“Perfect. Hold there. Wait on my signal.”

“Roger.”

Delphinium moved fifteen meters in front of Genista, and Argentea followed her lead.

“Activate boosters,” instructed Ichigo. “Keep them idle. We’re drawing it to our heat signature. Genista needs enough room to get a clear shot.”

“Understood.” Miku’s voice was suddenly subdued. It sounded like the tension of the moment was starting to sink in. Though the wind was still blowing, the absence of the ambient rumbling from the FRANXX’ boosters seemed to have left them in an eerie silence. Ichigo was inwardly thankful that they would be in combat so soon. After the mission in the abandoned mine, another prolonged stakeout would have been torture.

“God damn.” Zorome’s whisper rasped through the speakers. “How fast is that thing moving?”

“Quiet,” ordered Ichigo. Though she didn’t mind the interruption, Kokoro probably would. “Wait for my signal.”

No sarcastic answer came from Zorome this time. Ichigo’s eyes were fixed on the HUD in the corner of her vision. Twelve seconds. Eight seconds. Four. The ground was beginning to rumble underneath them. Three. How could something that size move so quickly? Two…

“Now,” she said.

In unison she and Argentea gunned their boosters, diving sideways away from each other. Pits in the sand were left where they had stood.

The ground split like an opening mouth. The rumbling that had been faint a second ago was rattling in her skull now. Ichigo grit her teeth as an ugly black shape burst from the seam in the earth. The klaxosaur’s mouth, too, was wide and gaping, circular and jawless like a colossal lamprey, and in the split second before it had rocketed past her she gazed down its throat, which was yawning and lined with spines and dark blue, like the color of the blood that had coated Strelizia when—

The body was segmented and armored and flecks of blue were visible between the joints in its plating. Half a second later, Ichigo remembered to close her eyes. Genista’s flash detonated. A burst of white and a high-pitched whine overtook Ichigo’s senses for a split second. She coughed out an order to regroup, but she could not hear herself speak. She scrambled to her feet. If her plan hadn’t worked—

The trunk of the beast was lying motionless on the sand. Well, some of it was, anyway—who knew how many identical armored wormlike segments still lay beneath their feet. Genista was cowering next to the overturned Rook, protecting her head with her arms. The klaxosaur had not fallen on her.

“Get up,” Ichigo said sharply. Both Argentea and Genista flinched in response. The smaller FRANXX began to clamber to her feet. “I don’t know how long it’ll be out.”

“Y-yeah,” said Miku, and Ichigo could hear her shaking off the aftershock of the blast. “Okay. How are we gonna find the core?”

Ichigo opened her mouth to speak, then closed it after a moment of silence.

“It could be underground, for all we know,” said Goro swiftly, noticing and covering for her at once. “Make sure it’s incapacitated. I’ll contact base.”

“Yeah, and how do we do _that_ , mister double digits?” Zorome still sounded jarred from the impact, but he was rapidly regaining his temper. “It’s about five hundred times bigger than us. Which part is the head, even?”

Goro’s voice faltered too.

Ichigo’s adrenaline had begun to ebb, and she was starting to realize how ridiculous this whole situation was. HQ wanted their shorthanded crew with no intel to kill an unclassified klaxosaur?

_It’s okay. One step at a time._

She remembered with a jolt that Goro could hear her.

_Yeah. This isn’t what I thought piloting would be like._

_Me neither._ Ichigo could feel him grinning sheepishly. _Any ideas?_

_Um…well, it uses its mouth to burrow, right? I wonder if we can disable it somehow…_

“Genista, prep a concussion mine.”

“On it.”

“Do you hear that?” said Miku sharply. “I think it’s moving again.”

“One step at a time. We’ll disable the klaxosaur, and then we’ll—”

Something struck Ichigo in the back with the force of a meteor. A white-hot ball of pain burst between her shoulder blades. Delphinium’s head snapped back as she was lifted completely off her feet and flung forward, and Ichigo let out an involuntary cry of pain. She felt Goro’s consciousness react to the sound at once. A moment later her head smashed into the sand and she could see nothing but brown and gray.

“Ichigo!” Miku’s shriek was faint in her ears.

_Get up. Get up, or you’re going to die._

Ichigo spoke the words to herself. The connection between her and her partner had suddenly become blurred, fractured. Goro was still alive. She needed to focus. She blinked. The blot covering her vision sharpened. There were grains of sand in front of her. She counted fifty of them.

_Get up._

Her arms could still move. She pushed off the ground, rolled onto her back and raised herself to a sitting position. Argentea was speaking. The sound blurred and mixed like paint.

There was another klaxosaur, and its blue-black skin and jointed body matched the first exactly. Instead of terminating in a gaping jawless mouth, this one’s head tapered to a point like a crude spearhead. Ichigo knew at once that it was what had hit her. Something this big must have appeared on the sonar scanner, too—she must have forgotten to look. And if the point of its head had been even slightly sharper, Delphinium would’ve been split in half.

Ichigo pounded the ground in frustration.

 _Save it for later,_ advised Goro. _Looks like we’ve got more work to do._

* * *

Hiro turned to Nana, pleading silently for her to make all of this make sense.

“What’s going on?”

“You heard them,” said Nana. She made a hesitant motion as if to turn back toward the holo display, but decided against it. “Zero Two is…a special stamen, I guess you’d say. Part of a combat specialist experimental squad. Actually, she was never intended to stay in Plantation 13 for more than a few days…I suppose she’s going to rejoin her squad now.”

Nothing she said had helped his understanding.

“Why?” said Hiro blankly.

“Orders from HQ,” said Nana.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t say,” replied Nana softly.

“The doctor told me that I could partner with her.” Hiro curled and uncurled his fists. His heart was pounding, and he breathed deeply, trying to control it. Zero Two’s scent had reached inside his brain and latched onto him, and he could not dismiss it. “So why is she leaving?”

“That isn’t his decision to make,” said Nana, even more quietly. Her twinkling eyes were fixed on Hiro. Her brow was knitted in concern, as though the sight of him were causing her pain. “I know the two of you got along well, and I’m glad you were kind to her. But she doesn’t belong at Plantation 13.”

“She wanted to stay.”

“I’m sorry, Hiro.”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry.”

His nails were drawing blood from his palm, and the points where Zero Two’s horns had touched him were still white-hot. He needed to follow her. He turned toward the door, and Nana reached out to him urgently.

“Don’t go after her, Hiro. It’ll only make things worse.”

Before his ears had registered her plea he had already slammed the briefing room door behind him.

He knew where to go. The three landing bays at which air transports landed were all grouped together on the northern side of the plantation. Connected to them was a colossal atrium, criss-crossed with escalators that carried passengers from the landing bay to each level of the plantation’s insides. Hiro had ridden those escalators once before, on the day that he and Naomi had prepared to be shipped away. He knew with absolute certainty that he would not live through saying goodbye to another partner.

He burst through a door and struck his head painfully against the glass panels that lined one of the many walkways circling the inside of the atrium. She was here, somewhere. Daylight from the skylights hundreds of yards above glinted off the glass and white metal all around him. He could not enter the atrium and ascend the stairs to the landing bay; the access doors would not open for an unauthorized parasite, and without the firepower of a FRANXX he would not be able to break them down. His head throbbed again.

“Zero Two!” he screamed.

The glare was almost blinding. On the opposite side of the atrium, two levels above where he stood, he saw the bloodred blotch of color flanked on all sides by gray and black.

“Zero Two!”

Two of the APE guards’ helmets turned toward him, and he saw one speak briefly to the other, then signal to the rest of the group. Three of the gray figures broke away from the others. Hiro ignored them. From this distance he could not see if Zero Two had turned to look at him too.

As they approached, he spotted his opportunity. He ran. Hiro and the guards arrived at the access door simultaneously; one of them swiped his ID card to open it. Hiro attempted to push his way through the group, but the other two guards seized him by the shoulders with vice-like grips.

“Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

“Let...go of me...”

He was struggling to break out of their grasp, but he may as well have tried to fight Strelizia bare-handed. The masked faces were blank.

“You can’t be in here.”

“Zero Two!” screamed Hiro for the third time. “Come back!”

She stopped. He knew she had heard him. The chance was slipping through his fingers.

“Get him back to—”

“I’m sorry!” Hiro’s lungs were burning with exertion and the guards’ gloves were digging painfully into the muscles of his shoulders. At any moment his body was going to collapse. “I’m sorry, Zero Two! I promised you…I promised to help you when I was strong enough! But I can’t be strong enough without you!”

Zero Two turned toward him. It was much, much too far away for him to see her expression; all he could see was that her green eyes were smoldering with a light so intense that he could feel it pierce his chest.

“You can call yourself a monster, or a partner killer, or whatever other fucking horrible thing they told you!” shouted Hiro. “But you’re still my partner, Zero Two, and I’m not going to let them take that away t—”

One of the guards holding him by the shoulder clamped a gloved hand over his mouth. Hiro tried to bite it, but the material was too tough.

“Jesus,” said the man holding his other shoulder. “Should we sedate him?”

“Get him to medical,” said the first guard. “Check his code first.”

Sweat drops were running into his eyes. The salt stung him, and he blinked. Zero Two was still looking back at him. Faintly, he could see her take a step toward him. At the moment she did, the five remaining guards surrounding her closed in; four grabbed her arms, two on each side, and the one who was apparently their leader pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of her neck.

“Hold still,” said one of the voices next to his head.

They were going to hurt her. She was in danger. They were going to kill Zero Two. His entire body was searing with crippling pain, connected via white-hot lines to the spot on his chest and the points where Zero Two’s horns had touched him. He was trapped in a body that was too small for him to fit in. His head was going to split.

Hiro took a deep breath and twisted away from the gloved hands that were holding onto his shoulders. Their grips had weakened; their fingers felt flimsy and brittle against him. One of the guards swore loudly. The two that had been holding him tried to grab again; the third man, standing in front of him, began to lift his weapon from its holster, but he was moving so slowly that he might have been underwater.

Hiro slapped the barrel of the rifle aside, and it was sent rocketing out of the guard’s grasp, smashing through a glass panel out into the empty space between the walkways, spinning on its axis as it dropped out of sight. He drove the heel of his other hand into the left side of the man’s jaw. He felt the bone split; he saw a spray of blood and broken teeth before him. There was a horrible shriek, followed by sudden, incoherent, panicked exclamations from the guards standing at his shoulders. Hiro shoved them both away with all his might. He hurtled through the still opened access door and up the ramp. He heard the cracking of the muscles in his legs. The edges of his vision were blurred; the atrium had become an indistinct white void; the only thing he could still see was a pair of burning green eyes.

_I’m coming for you, Zero Two._

Her face was in focus. The green eyes were piercing him. She cried out something that he could not hear. Hiro struck the nearest guard in the chest with the point of his shoulder. Whatever mysterious force was suddenly making them so light and easy to move was still at work; the man was tossed backwards like that one in the briefing room, though this one collided with another of his partners and they were both sent tumbling into a support beam. The rest were shouting; he could not make out their words.

“Darling,” said Zero Two. Her eyes were glowing.

“I’m not going to break my promise, Zero Two.”

He hugged her as tightly as he possibly could. If he went another moment without touching her, the pain would overtake him and he would shatter into a thousand pieces. She returned the embrace with equal force. Through the skintight pistil suit he felt the contours of her body. There was less than a millimeter of cloth separating them.

“Nobody’s ever said such embarrassing things to me,” she whispered.

Their lips met. She tasted sweetly intense, just as she always had done. The tips of her fangs were sharp on his tongue. The tears on her cheeks were cold and her lashes were still wet.

“Let’s fly together.”

Zero Two’s entire body quivered with delight. “Yes, please.”

Black-gloved fingers wrapped around her left shoulder from behind. Reflexively Hiro placed his palm on the back of Zero Two’s head and pulled her to his chest. With his other hand he reached out and took the APE guard by the collarbone and shoved him away; the man’s helmeted head snapped forward and his chin struck his chest as he fell.

“Are you okay?” Hiro murmured. He could feel Zero Two’s heart pounding in her chest through the thin fabric of the pistil suit.

“I’m okay,” she breathed.

“Do you know where Strelizia is?”

Zero Two looked up at him and her eyes were suddenly glittering with excitement. “Yeah.”

She seized him by the wrist and pulled him after her. They were running up the sloped walkway that led to the hangar. Zero Two was gripping him with such immense strength that Hiro thought he might be able to raise his feet off the floor and let the wind carry him along like a kite.

They barreled through the S-class doors that separated the atrium and the hangar. Even though the room they’d just come from was almost all white, Hiro was still momentarily blinded by the sunlight reflecting off of nearly every solid surface. The doors were open and clear sky and desolate wasteland were visible for a hundred miles beyond them. And in the center of the hangar, gleaming dully red and white and yellow, curled into a sitting position on a huge pallet in the still-open cargo bay of one of the enormous air transports, there was Strelizia.

Hiro had never felt so light on his feet. The floor he stood on might have been pushing him along with each step. His calves were aching with exertion from the sprint, but neither he nor Zero Two broke stride as they pushed past a cluster of confused marshals and mounted the ramp that led up into the cargo bay.

“Hey! You! You can’t be here!”

More meaningless shouting. Well, the adults could come up here to stop him. Let them try.

Though Strelizia was sitting, her head and the entrance to her cockpit were still a good eighteen feet off the ground. Without skipping a beat and without even letting go of his arm, Zero Two scaled the anatomy of the immobile FRANXX in two fluid motions. She reached up and unlocked the hatch. Strelizia’s faceplate opened to admit them, and the two parasites climbed into the cockpit.

Hiro sank into the pilot’s seat and fastened the straps across his chest. Zero Two pulled the hatch closed and locked herself into the cradle. His head was spinning with adrenaline. The scents and the cool darkness of the cockpit closed around him like a fitted glove. He had ached for this for days. The lights on the control console blinked to life as Strelizia awoke.

The viewpanel in front of them buzzed with static; Nana’s face appeared. A direct video feed. Her normally rosy cheeks were livid with fury.

“Hiro, Zero Two, get out of there. Immediately.”

“No thanks,” said Zero Two at once. “I’m going to fly with Darling.”

“If you launch without permission, you’re going to force me to—”

The feed cut off. Zero Two had killed the connection.

“I’m going to fly with Darling,” she repeated to the blank wall. She looked back at him; her eyes were still sparkling. “Are you ready?”

Hiro resisted the urge to reach out and touch her hair—it looked incredibly soft—but he needed both hands on the controls to commence the connection process. “Let’s go.”

She could not bear it for another millisecond. For perhaps an hour she had really thought APE was going to take her away from Darling for good, and all she could see in her mind’s eye was his vacant confused look as they had said goodbye.

Darling really liked her enough to sacrifice everything for her. He really, truly did. Frightened little birds in a cage they were, both of them, and he had really come to break her out. Even being this close to him in the cockpit, but unable to touch because of the restraints, was intense agony. His scent was stronger than it had been.

hold me. kiss me. touch me. stroke my hair. let me hear your voice and taste your lips. join our horns together.

She connected with Strelizia. Her limbs vibrated with burning energy for a split second, then Darling’s consciousness was there. Plunging into a cool ocean on a scorching day. She let out an audible moan. She hoped he didn’t hear her. She hoped he heard her. She felt his thoughts mixing with her own. Relief and euphoria of such intensity that neither of them could put it into words.

 _You’re so pretty, I didn’t want to close my eyes,_ he said.

_And you looked very handsome when you came to save me._

She flashed an image to him. Darling’s face when he had broken free of the APE guards and run after her. His eyes were blue and glowing with intensity and looked like fragments of a full moon. The ambient white light around them had been playing off his cheekbones and his strong masculine jawline. He looked like a furious avenging angel.

_You’re embarrassing me._

Zero Two grinned and flashed another image for a millisecond—Darling in the bath, when she had burst in to convince him to run away with her. He had stood up and—

Darling was burning with indignation. _Not fair! I didn’t even know you saw that._

_Where else would I be looking?_

She giggled. The cool ocean contracted slightly around her. The sensation was almost alarming in its intensity.

_We should go help Squad 13._

_Mm-hmm._

_Show them how strong you are. Nobody is stronger than my beautiful Zero Two._

Strelizia’s limbs were lashed to thick metal loops lining the inside of the cargo bay with the heavy-duty woven polyester cables that, she vaguely remembered, were able to support five hundred times the FRANXX’s weight. Zero Two uncurled her limbs and stood. There was a brief squealing of protesting metal; some of the cables snapped, while others slackened and yielded, the anchors on their other ends forced open or else pulled completely out of the wall.

She stepped forward, down the ramp, into the light. A cluster of APE guards were milling around them like confused ants. No doubt they were shouting at her, and she would receive another dressing-down from Nana and probably one from the doctor too. It didn’t matter now. Nothing did, except that she and Darling were now bound as tightly together as it was possible for two parasites to be.

He engaged the boosters. The two of them—or was it just one of them, now?—rose gracefully off the ground, passed between the looming hulls of transport ships, out of the hangar, out onto the desert sand, and as Zero Two felt the wind brush against Strelizia’s face they blasted off in the direction of the setting sun.

* * *

Though the holo-display still showed the CCTV footage of the inside of Plantation 13’s hangar, the lone woman who remained in the briefing room was no longer taking any notice of it. She was half-crumpled in a sitting position on a bench in the lowest row, and her long, thick, curly brown hair had fallen forward to conceal her face.

“Nana.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those two parasites disobeyed orders and have hijacked a combat vehicle.”

“Yes, sir.”

“They are now considered enemy combatants.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are to take necessary countermeasures.”

A pause.

“Yes.”

“Very good.”

The communicator in her hand emitted a puff of static, and the connection went dead. Nana extended a shaking hand toward the control console below the holo-display. She flinched, seeming to lose her nerve; a moment later, something like an electric shock traveled through her body and she let out a whimper of pain.

Nana breathed deeply, closed her eyes, and reached out to the console again. She pressed the button.

Miles away, in a little cramped office overflowing with file cabinets and loose documents, the old scientist who had disabled Strelizia’s emergency-stop mechanism many years ago began cackling to himself.


	5. Thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god i love these two.

He was bound tightly together in the cockpit with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. Some part of Hiro—a very small part—was afraid that it was a beautiful dream that at any moment would burst and dissipate upon waking. The rest of his mind was too consumed with happiness to worry. He and Zero Two were flying together again. She was here in his head with him. He could feel her own delight, equal in magnitude to his own, glowing like the sun. They were laid bare to each other.

_I like the way your cheeks glow a little red when you’re angry or excited._

_Darling. Dar-ling. Darling._ He could feel her sounding it out to herself over and over and over. _Darling. I like your voice and the way it vibrates in your chest when you talk. It’s like a lullaby._

_I like how strong you are. I like the muscles in your shoulders and back and thighs. When we’re out of here, I want to feel them. I want to feel your strength._

_Dar-ling. Whenever you touch me, a spark runs down my spine. It feels so lovely that it’s painful. Sometimes I think I can’t stand it. In the briefing room, I was about to start crying._

_I like the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I like when you show me your fangs. They have such a beautiful shape. I can feel them when we kiss._

_I like your smell. Darling. You smell like the ocean._

_You were naked and bathing in the lake when we met. I’ve never been able to get that image out of my head since then. Not that I’d want to._

The sparkling feeling bubbling off of her consciousness felt exactly the same as her wide toothy grin. _I’d never let anybody else see me like that, you know. But when Darling looks at me, I feel like I’m glowing._

_You are glowing, Zero Two. You’re my sun. Every day you grow a little brighter._

_Dar-ling. When this is over, you had better kiss me. You have to kiss me enough times to make up for how afraid I was that I might not see you again._

_Of course I will._

_That’s a promise, isn’t it?_

He showed her a split-second cross-section of time. He had pulled her head close to his chest for protection in the atrium, when the guard had tried to grab her. He remembered the sensation of her breathing. One of her horns had poked him in the chest. He could feel Zero Two burying her face in her hands in giddy embarrassment.

_It’s a promise._

The IFF signals of the three other FRANXX were in range now. Purple dots blinked to life on Strelizia’s HUD. Hiro overlaid the sonar scanner on the display. The dots were gathered around an indistinct dark-colored mass. They looked hesitant—their movements reminded Hiro of a memory he had of Garden as a child, where he had watched two ants try to kill a spider.

There was a noise coming out of Strelizia’s belly. It was so low it was more of a vibration than a sound, and unlike the thunderous humming of her boosters, the many layers between Hiro and the world outside the cockpit were doing no good in drowning it out. It was an organic noise—“wet,” almost, he thought, like the throaty growling of a tremendous beast—and with a thrill of some kind of emotion he didn’t have time to identify, Hiro realized that’s exactly what it was.

The sound was coming from her—from Zero Two. She had smelled the klaxosaur.

_Zero Two. Zero Two._

At the second repetition she acknowledged his voice.

 _I’m here,_ he said.

_I know._

_Take my strength, and keep ahold of yourself, okay?_

_Don’t worry._ The noise coming from within Strelizia was growing in intensity. _I’ve killed plenty of these things._

_That’s not what I meant._

She did not answer.

They were close enough for Hiro to visually make out the individual shapes in the dust cloud ahead of them that had been kicked up by the ongoing melee. He could see the blocky round-edged form of Genista, the closest FRANXX to them, lying motionless in the sand; behind her, an enormous black thing was moving: the segmented armored trunk of a wormlike beast, thrashing around blindly. Hiro blinked. No—there were two of them.

Two unidentified klaxosaurs versus a shorthanded squad. A suicide mission. Anger at APE boiled in his chest, mixing with the still-growing growling noise coming out of Strelizia. He steadied himself and keyed his mic.

“Ichigo. Miku. Can you hear me?”

There was an immediate unidentifiable burst of noise, though he could hear no answering voices.

_We need to get that thing off of them._

_Leave it to me,_ said Zero Two.

As they streaked past Genista’s prone form, he could see her struggling to rise to a sitting position.

Strelizia barreled into the side of the nearest worm thing at maximum speed, driving her head and upper arms into it with the force of a meteor. Hiro felt the impact rattle his teeth, though he knew his discomfort was nothing compared to the klaxosaur’s—it had been flung bodily backwards by the force and lay sprawled, dazed, on the sand. The landing kicked up a cloud of dust and sand.

“H-Hiro?!” Ichigo was struggling to catch her breath. She sounded like she was in pain.

“I read you.”

“Where are you?” Delphinium was looking directly at them.

“I’m here, with Zero Two.”

“You’re…you’re what?”

Zero Two let out an audible sigh of frustration. _The battlefield isn’t a place for weaklings,_ she said—then audibly, over comms: “Leave it to me.”

“No,” said Ichigo, and Hiro could hear an edge of panic in her protest. “No. No!” Delphinium struggled to her feet and squared off, facing them defiantly. Hiro could see her legs trembling. “We can’t afford to rely on Strelizia again! And you can’t pilot with her!”

Zero Two sighed with exaggerated exasperation again, this time through her mic. “You’re being difficult. Darling and I can handle this.”

“Ichigo,” said Hiro evenly. “I’m part of the team too. Let me help.”

He heard her ragged breathing over the open mic.

“Hey, hey, what the hell is going on?” Zorome’s irritating voice intruded on their conversation. Fifty meters away, Argentea was also struggling to rise. There were wide dirty scrapes across her shoulder and chest plates. “Hiro? No way. Is that actually you?”

Hiro felt Zero Two mentally tugging on his shirtsleeve. “Zorome, Miku, help us out. We need to kill this thing.”

“Huh?” said Miku.

“Hell yeah!” said Zorome enthusiastically, and Hiro saw Argentea suddenly jerk forward, as the two pilots disagreed on whether to move or not. “That’s what I like to hear. Finally! So there _is_ something inside your skull after all.”

_Darling._

The second klaxosaur, the one with the spearlike head, had struck at them like a snake; Hiro dodged to the side in time and the spearhead embedded itself three meters deep in the sand where they had stood.

_Thanks for the warning._

“Okay. You three, take this klaxosaur. Zero Two and I will kill the big one.”

The spearlike thing pulled its head out of the ground and shook itself. Again, it struck at them; this time, both he and Zero Two were ready to react, and Hiro watched the klaxosaur move as though it were in slow motion.

_Grab it, Darling._

_You’ve got to be kidding me_ , said a small part of his brain, but only to himself. The rest of him trusted her completely. He knew how capable she was.

Hiro sent an impulse down the nerve of Strelizia’s right arm. He felt the thrum as Zero Two received it and amplified the motion. As the massive wedge-shaped klaxosaur head swung toward them, she sidestepped—the strike missed—and Hiro felt Strelizia grip the edge of one of its armored plates with her right hand. His teeth rattled at the impact. The force of the contact drove her fist into the thing’s body—as the plate shattered, blue blood erupted from the wound, and Hiro felt through Strelizia’s nerve endings the heat of the klaxosaur’s insides.

Zero Two prized the end of the klaxosaur’s head out of the ground with a powerful tug. It flailed angrily. It was so large that they should have been lifted easily off their feet and flung into the air like ragdolls. Somehow Zero Two’s heroic strength was keeping them grounded. Gripping the edge of the armor plate with her other hand, she heaved upward. He heard the joints between the plates creak in protest, but Strelizia was pulling the klaxosaur out of the ground.

Thirty meters away, the melee between the other three FRANXX and the first klaxosaur had ceased; it was standing straight up, writhing, and shrieking, apparently in pain. One of his squadmates must have landed a fatal blow.

 _Nice,_ he thought. _They beat us to it._

 _Not yet,_ said Zero Two. _They haven’t found the core. And neither have we._

The klaxosaur thrashed. Zero Two grunted in annoyance.

_Let’s see how far down you go._

Hiro understood her unspoken request. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, braced himself, and charged Strelizia with as much energy as he could supply, and inside his head he heard Zero Two’s laughter—soft, surprised, and pleased, though he could feel that she was concentrating with all of her effort.

_That feels lovely._

_You’re my strength, Zero Two._

There was a sudden, colossal shockwave of power from Strelizia. The ground around her feet vibrated as she pulled; the klaxosaur flailed angrily to escape their grip; then the earth cracked open with a bone-shaking rumble as they unearthed two hundred meters of klaxosaur, pulling it bodily from the ground like the FRANXX was extracting a parasitic worm.

As it was laid bare to the sun, they saw that the spear-headed klaxosaur they were fighting and the mouth-headed klaxosaur amid the other three FRANXX were connected to each other.

“What the fuck?” came Miku’s amazed cry over comms. Her comprehension was operating faster than Hiro’s. “They were the same klaxosaur?”

“Ewww,” said Kokoro. “That’s disgusting. It’s like a big worm.”

“Brace yourselves,” said Zero Two, cutting through the chatter. “It’s going to—”

Inertia pinned Hiro to his seat, and the world around him that was visible through Strelizia’s visual scanners twisted and dripped like melting oil paint. The klaxosaur had bucked in pain, making a giant U-shape with its body. He heard the mech’s shoulder joint creak. White-hot pain from the sympathetic nerve connection shot through his body. He heard Zero Two let out a yelp of pain.

_Are you okay?_

_I’m fine, Darling. I’ve had a lot worse._

Their motion changed; the restraints were digging into his body now. The klaxosaur was straightening, and they were being flung downwards at the sand.

“Hiro!” Ichigo’s voice, panicked, through the headset.

He had no time to answer her. He gritted his teeth. Zero Two curled Strelizia into a ball, protecting her landing with her elbow and knee joints, with her right fist still clutching the thing’s side. Hiro felt the shockwave rattle his ribcage as they landed. Zero Two let out another noise. Hiro’s ears were ringing. He heard Ichigo speaking again.

“Genista. Flash mortar.” Then, to him. “You two okay? “

“We’re alive,” said Zero Two; she was panting with exertion. “Darling and I are going inside the mouth. I know how to find the core.”

“Hang on,” replied Ichigo sharply, as the klaxosaur before them groaned. “Hiro’s part of Squad 13, and I don’t know what chain of command you’re used to, but I’m his commanding officer. So—”

“Booo-ring,” droned Zero Two. “You can play-act as the leader girl later, if it makes you feel better. Right now you need to listen to me if you want to get out of here alive.”

“You—” began the squad leader hotly.

“Ichigo! Ready.” He heard Kokoro endeavoring to keep her voice steady. “Should I just…”

With a sudden burst of movement, Strelizia darted forward and pulled Genista’s weapon from her grip. Kokoro let out a yelp of surprise. Behind them, Hiro heard Delphinium’s servos whine as she ground into action—she probably wanted to chase them.

“Stop. That’s an order.” Ichigo’s voice cut clearly through the noise in the cockpit.

The klaxosaur was squirming, trying to regain its bearings. It seemed to be wary of contact with sunlight. Using the momentum from her run and her boosters, Strelizia slammed the end of the Rook Sparrow into the still freely bleeding wound in its side near the tail; another plume of blood burst from it, drenching her head and shoulders. The klaxosaur screeched in pain; it turned blindly toward them, its body doubling over on itself as the jawless mouth swung toward them.

Hiro’s head was spinning with exhiliration. She was so fast, and so efficient, and so confident. Her movements were not wasting an atom of energy—it was like watching a dance. He knew Zero Two could hear him.

_Close your eyes, Darling._

He was able, though barely, to react to her warning. There was a thunderous vibrating _boom_ , and a blinding light pressed on his closed eyelids.

_Now._

_I want to watch you forever._ Hiro could feel her energy vibrating around him like heat haze. _Here. This is how you make me feel._

It was building like an expanding bubble inside his chest. He gripped the armrests of the pilot’s seat with every ounce of force remaining in his body. His head felt like it was about to burst with pressure. He grit his teeth and poured his energy into Strelizia, and he felt the cockpit grow hot around them.

Zero Two was no longer speaking; neither was he. They were for a split instant a single mind and a single body. With a rumble of boosters they burst forward; they charged directly into the monster’s mouth, down its throat into utter pitch blackness. The part of them that was Zero Two was making some kind of sound in their head—it might have just been a shout, but something about it resembled song. The voice of the little squad-leader girl was speaking in their head. They did not listen or understand.

The darkness of the klaxosaur’s insides was thick like a black fog, but they did not need sight. They could sense the presence of the veins by which the monster carried its energy through its body, like a colossal blue spiderweb draped around them. At its center lay a glowing heart. _“Kill the beasts,”_ they recited, _“and you can have what has been taken from you.”_

The tip of the Queen Pike pierced the little glowing orb hidden in the klaxosaur’s belly. It was soft and yielding and warm.

* * *

It was over.

Hiro disengaged the piloting restraints and felt himself withdrawing from Zero Two’s gentle warmth. He wasn’t coated in sweat this time, and the cockpit wasn’t stiflingly hot as it had been during their first flight, but he could still feel his limbs trembling with exhaustion.

Zero Two half-rose from the pistil’s kneeling position and turned toward him to collapse into his lap. He hugged her tightly and she rested her head on his chest. Her hair cascaded untidily around her. Zero Two let out a very long, contented sigh. Hiro kissed the top of her head.

“Darling,” she murmured, and then, “Dar-ling,” again, slower, as though she could taste each syllable. Apparently she’d found a new hobby. She raised her head and scooted up his chest a few inches so that they were close enough to kiss, and they did so. She bit his lip very softly. He felt the tip of her fang. A sudden intense electric tingle run down his spine, and he let out an involuntary gasp. A grin spread across Zero Two’s face. They kissed again.

“Darling,” said Zero Two again, sleepily, after they had broken apart and reconnected the third time. “Let’s stay in here forever.”

Hiro ran his hand down her spine to the small of her back and pulled her gently into him. “I’d like to, but I promised you a bath, I think.”

“That’s true.”

“You’d like to get out of that suit, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm…”

He ran his fingers through her hair. It was very soft. “Let’s go back.”

Zero Two sighed deeply. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Hiro.”

Ichigo’s voice was so sudden and unexpected that he jumped.

“What’s up?”

“Hiro,” she repeated urgently. “Someone’s here.”

“What do you mean, ‘someone’?” asked Hiro, slightly annoyed, as Zero Two pushed herself up off his lap to climb back into the cradle.

Zero Two staggered backward as Strelizia’s front hatch burst open without warning. A wave of dry heat and torturously bright sunlight blasted Hiro fully in the face, followed by a loud clattering noise and the grunting of several unfamiliar voices. He was exhausted and disoriented, and his body was immovably heavy, and his brain was moving in slow motion, so he latched onto the one idea he could remember, the promise he had made to a girl he had met barely a week ago. _Protect her._

Hiro rose and reached out his arm to try to push Zero Two behind him into the pilot’s seat, to place his body between her and the threat. A gloved hand with a vicelike grip seized his wrist and yanked him forward. He stumbled.

“Zero Two,” he said clearly, not even able to make out distinct shapes through the glaring light and heat. “Zero Two.”

“These are the parasites,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Cuff them. Don’t hurt the girl.”

The unseen force pulled Hiro’s wrists together roughly behind his back and he heard the metallic click of latch closing. He heard Zero Two let out an angry noise halfway between a shout and a growl, followed by a cry of pain. He blinked several times, willing the colors in his vision to resolve into shapes.

APE guards, masked, faceless, identical to the ones they had escaped in the atrium. Of course. How could he have thought they had really gotten away? APE was everywhere. Papa saw everything. In their exhausted, disoriented post-piloting fugue, they had no chance of fighting back.

He let out an indistinct yell of frustration. The masked figures seized him and his partner by the shoulders. He felt his back leave the seat. It was hideously hot and dry and bright outside.

Hiro reached out and tried to feel Zero Two next to him, but his wrists were bound together by the cuffs and he could barely move. His vision was beginning to blur. His head drooped forward. He could hear Zero Two voicing exclamations of anger and pain. He could not help her. The miraculous strength that had struck him back in the plantation had abandoned him now. Intense pain throbbed in his temples and on his chest, in the place where her head had rested less than a minute ago.

“She didn’t do anything.” He was speaking pointlessly. He knew none of the guards were listening, or cared what he had to say. He was not pleading to them. If there was a God, he was praying to that. “She didn’t do anything. Leave us alone. Give her back.”

Hiro felt himself being lifted bodily and placed on a stiff, uncomfortable surface, like the poorly padded seats of the trams that ran through Plantation 13. He was moving. APE was taking him away somewhere.

“Zero Two,” said Hiro blankly. Darkness covered his vision.

* * *

He came to in a cube-shaped room, about four times the size of Strelizia’s cockpit. Three of the walls were glass floor to ceiling, and the fourth was solid gray. A bench was set in the solid wall, which he was lying on, and the cuffs had been removed from his wrists, leaving painful red marks where they had cut into his flesh. The floor was lilac-colored, and there was a faint scent playing in his nostrils that smelled chemical. The whole scene was distractingly nostalgic. He had seen a room like this before.

Hiro’s body felt stiflingly hot; he turned his neck and noticed that his forehead was covered in sweat. He reached out to push himself into a sitting position, then stopped with an involuntary shout of pain. The spot on his chest felt as though live wires were pressed against it—it made the act of moving his left arm excruciating. He looked down in panic. Someone had changed him out of his pilot suit and into a gray gown and pants made of soft, heavy fabric—the same material that the parasites wore to bed in the dormitory in Mistelteinn. He pulled up his shirt front with his right arm. Something had appeared in the painful spot on his chest—something like a massive bluish bruise, or like a subcutaneous tumor, crisscrossed with angry swollen veins. Even as he watched, he could see the surface of the thing pulsate in rhythm with his heartbeat.

Panic burst in his brain, but the pulsing pain stayed his movements. APE had taken him out of Strelizia. The guards had separated him and Zero Two. On Papa’s orders, no doubt. He wondered if the blue growth on his chest was their doing. He was beginning to hyperventilate. Had they poisoned him? Were they trying to kill him? Was this the punishment for breaking out of the plantation? Where was Zero Two? He breathed in deeply, trying to remember her smell, but the chemical odor around him was smothering him. Where was Zero Two? It was as strong as if someone had placed a soaked rage over his face. Where was Zero Two?

Hiro gritted his teeth and made a second attempt at sitting up. The growth across his chest seared with pain and he felt darts of agony shooting up his shoulder and his neck and down to his left hip, but he managed to rise.

Other than the bench, the room was empty, and the walls and floor were featureless. The only thing he could see was the thin outline of a sealed doorway in one of the glass walls. He pounded the nearest one angrily with his fist; it made a dull _thud_ , but he couldn’t feel it move even a millimeter. From the sound and the sturdiness, it must be at least three inches thick. He rose to his feet—whoever had dressed him had put a pair of thick low-cut socks on his feet—and crossed to the other side of the room, where the outline of the door was faintly visible. Why was this room so familiar?

“Why?” he said pointlessly to the door.

“Code 016.”

Hiro jumped backward in alarm. The voice had come from nowhere—no, that wasn’t right. It had come from the bare white ceiling—there must be speakers hidden somewhere, though the sound was as crystal-clear as if the man to whom that voice belonged had been standing directly behind him. His heart hammered. The growth on his chest screamed in protest at the sudden movement, and he clutched at it convulsively with his right hand.

There was a little old man with scruffy white hair sitting on a folding chair outside one of the glass walls. The light from inside Hiro’s room was shining on his knees and hands, which were resting on the knob of a short walking stick. His face was partially hidden in darkness, though Hiro recognized the blocky jaw at once.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

“You’re looking well,” continued Doctor Frank, ignoring the question. “Well, relatively.” His voice was still coming from all around Hiro, who could make out no other noise as the old doctor stood with an obvious grunt of exertion. So the walls _were_ soundproof.

“Apologies for this whole, uh, rigmarole.” As always, the doctor sounded as though his own pretense at sympathy was boring him. “At this stage, I wasn’t sure how you’d respond to the continued contact with Code 002, so we had you confined—purely as a precautionary measure.”

Hiro’s brain was mentally skipping over most of the words that Frank spoke. “Where’s Zero Two?”

Frank’s eyes fastened on the spot Hiro was clutching on his chest. “I suppose she was right about you after all. At least partially. You’re able to move under your own power, and you seem rational. Is there any discomfort?”

Hiro let his arm fall.

“Yes,” he said blankly.

“I thought so.” The doctor blinked; he seemed satisfied.

“What’s…what’s happening to me? Did they do something to me?”

“APE?” Frank let out a short, gruff, hacking laugh. “Christ, no. Even those gorillas know better than to tamper with test subjects. No, the growth on your chest is your own doing—or rather, your partner’s.”

“What?”

“You’re aware of the rumor about Code 002, yes?”

Hiro blinked several times. “Yeah. The whole squad knows about it. Why? It…you mean it’s true?”

“That the third ride with Code 002 is fatal? Indeed.”

The pain in his chest was crippling him. Hiro felt his knees buckle. He collapsed into a sitting position on the floor, next to the bench upon which he had awoken. Both of Frank’s eyes, the organic and the cybernetic one, were staring intensely at Hiro. He seemed to be waiting for something.

“Can I go now?” said Hiro.

“Certainly,” said Frank, looking bemused. The stooped old man crossed to a control panel on a wall outside the room and pressed two buttons, and Hiro heard a high-pitched beep and a soft hiss as the seamlessly sealed door cracked open. A wave of cool air washed over him. He rose numbly. He felt as though he might be sleepwalking.

“I should warn you,” added the doctor as Hiro exited the cell. “If you attack plantation personnel again, there’ll be very little I can do to get you out of trouble. I could only manage it this time because Squad 13 is shorthanded thanks to Code 326.”

“Okay,” said Hiro numbly. “I’ll tell Zero Two, then.”

“Oh, no,” said Frank, his intact eye twinkling with what might have been amusement. “Code 002 won’t be in any danger regardless of what happens. But I thought I’d warn you, since she seems to be very fond of you.”

“Okay,” repeated Hiro. He could feel exhaustion setting in. “Thanks. How do I get back to Mistelteinn?”

“Down the hallway and to the left.” Frank indicated the direction with a jab from his cane. “The guards will escort you. Best of luck, Code 016.”

* * *

He returned to Mistelteinn on the tram, in a state halfway between dreaming and waking. Every tiny jolt of the tracks on his journey sent a crippling wave of agony through his upper body, and by the time the tram slowed to a halt at his stop, the fingers of his left hand had started to tingle without stopping and his eyes were watering.

Upon entering the massive terrarium that housed the dormitory, he saw that it was nighttime, and that the sky was sprinkled with stars. Thanks to the thick socks, Hiro could not hear his own footsteps, and in the utter silence left by the absence of the other parasites, he could not be completely sure that all of this hadn’t just been an intense dream.

He pushed, and the double doors of the dormitory building opened with a creak. It was not nearly as dark inside as he had expected—the light of the moon in the clear night sky, visible in the huge stained-glass window at the head of the staircase, was illuminating the entire entry hall. In the cold blue light, he could see clearly that there was a shape sitting at the foot of the stairs. Hiro took two steps forward and saw that it was Ichigo.

She must have stayed up waiting for him. He froze; his fingers were tingling with cold. He did not want to talk to Ichigo. He did not want to explain the ugly blue mark on his chest that signaled a countdown to his own death. He wanted to see Zero Two, to kiss her, and to sleep. But if Ichigo woke up in the morning and saw that he had returned, she would know he had avoided her, and that was nearly as bad—and in any case, her slumped position looked incredibly uncomfortable, and she had not brought a blanket.

Guilt tugged in his chest. Hiro sighed. There was no helping it. He knelt in front of Ichigo and shook her gently by the shoulder with his mostly-functional right arm.

“Mmph…”

“Hey. I’m back.”

She jerked upright at the sound of his voice. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles groggily. “Hiro!”

“Hi.”

Ichigo leaned forward without warning and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

“Thank god. Nobody would tell us what happened.” She was trembling. “Not even Nana. We just had to come back to base and wait. I was so confused.” Ichigo let out a shaky giggle that was half a sob. “I still am confused. I thought Zero Two was leaving yesterday. And I thought you were…I mean…”

“I’m okay.” He reciprocated the hug with his right arm. “Thanks for staying up for me.”

“You’re burning up,” she said. “And you look pale. You’re sweating. Did they give you something?”

“It’s…” Hiro tried to raise his hand to scratch the back of his neck, but stopped since it aggravated the ache in his chest. He dropped his arm. “It’s a long story.”

She finally released her grip on him and the bubbling pain in his chest faded. She was looking anxiously, expectantly up at him.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he muttered. “I’m really tired.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was clear on Ichigo’s face, and Hiro felt another twinge of guilt. She blinked and smiled brightly at him. “Okay. I understand. Let’s go to bed, then.”

“Yeah.”

They climbed the staircase in silence with blue moonlight falling directly on their faces.

At the top of the stairs they parted ways. Ichigo turned right, to enter the girls’ wing. Hiro headed left. They turned to face each other one more time. Ichigo looked as though she wanted to say something—she was biting her lip and seemed anxious, but Hiro wasn’t sure whether to expect any words.

After a few seconds of waiting, he said, “Good night.”

Clearly unable to stop herself, Ichigo flung her arms around him and hugged him a final time. Hiro grit his teeth sharply as the pain spiked again.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I know.” He ruffled her hair. “Thanks.”

She turned and departed. Her tiny form was pale and ghostlike in the moonlight.

Goro was long asleep by the time Hiro let himself into the bedroom and slid the door shut. It was warmer inside the room than it had been in the hallway; sweating freely, Hiro slid open the window and rested his forearms on the sill, letting the cool night air blow across his forehead. He heard Goro mutter in his sleep and turn over.

Hiro had half-hoped the last 24 hours would end up being an extended nightmare after all, and since enough bizarre things were happening already, maybe he could come back to the dorm to find Zero Two sleeping in his bed. No luck. The sheets were stifling hot; he lay on top of them instead and wrapped both arms around his pillow, and passed almost at once into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Barely a minute after he’d fallen asleep he could hear Goro speaking.

“Hey, you’re back. Cool.”

Hiro grunted in discomfort and clutched the pillow more tightly.

“Come on, wake up. We’ve got a big day today.” A hand gripped his shoulder. It shook him gently and the motion sent white-hot waves of agony coursing through his torso.

Hiro let out a cry of pain and twisted away from Goro’s hand. He sat upright in bed; his whole body, the sheets beneath him, and the pillow were all soaked in sweat, and his hair was plastered across his forehead. It had suddenly become bright as day in the room. Hiro looked around wildly; the light of sunrise was coming in through the still-open window, casting a flickering shadow on the opposite wall as it passed through the glass pitcher of water set on the bedside table.

“Hiro?” Goro’s cheerful tone had vanished. The tall blonde boy squatted by his bedside. He hadn’t put on his glasses yet; Hiro could see his concerned expression very clearly. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” stammered Hiro, running his hand distractedly through his hair. “I’m just…I had a bad dream.”

“Did you hurt your arm?”

“You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Goro was unconvinced. He reached out suddenly and felt Hiro’s forehead. His knuckles felt freezing cold against Hiro’s skin. “Jesus, man. You’re burning up.”

He stood and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, then offered it to Hiro, who took it gratefully with his right hand. “Thanks.”

Hiro drank, as Goro sat on the bed opposite his own and fixed him with a penetrating stare.

“I’m fine,” said Hiro firmly. He set the glass on the bedside table, braced himself internally and stood, as the spot on his chest throbbed with pain.

Goro raised one eyebrow minutely and watched him for a moment; then he seemed to decide to take Hiro’s words at face value. He grinned. “Good to hear.”

Hiro mentally sighed with relief. Goro stood again and pulled two uniforms out of the dresser drawer; he tossed one to Hiro, who caught it one-handed. “Glad you made it out okay. Breakfast?”

“Yeah. I’ll follow you down.”

Hiro doused his face with cold water repeatedly in the bathroom until his nose and cheeks were tingling and red. He stared at his own reflection; he was paler than usual, and his eyes seemed very bright in contrast. There was the tiniest hint of blue pallor creeping up his neck from his shirt collar. Instinctively, he hunched his shoulders together, even though there was nobody else in the room with him. If nothing else, he didn’t want the squad to know that something was wrong with him—it would make the whole ordeal harder to face. Those blue eyes, in the mirror, were his—a mind, a consciousness, was looking out through them back at him—a mind whose days were numbered, tied to the slowly spreading growth that had taken hold over his heart. Those eyes were what Zero Two saw when she looked at him. He tried to smile. He did not want to frighten her.

Ichigo was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. She waved up to him, and he returned the motion.

“You’re looking a lot better,” she said, as he descended the staircase. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Hiro lied.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing well after…” She trailed off.

Hiro waited for Ichigo to turn and walk toward the doors to the entrance hall, but she did not move. She was peering searchingly at him, and he remembered abruptly that he had promised to tell her today what had happened to him and Zero Two after the battle, and that he had not put even a moment of effort into thinking up a decent lie.

“They took me to medical, actually,” he said. Close enough—after all, it was half-true. He was not sure how Ichigo would react to knowing that the two of them had broken out of the plantation and stolen a combat vehicle, and so decided to avoid that part of the story.

Ichigo raised her eyebrow a fraction of an inch. “Really? The people who showed up yesterday didn’t look like medical personnel.”

“Yeah. Apparently…” he swallowed. “Piloting with Zero Two can make stamens unstable, so…I guess it was a safety precaution.” He’d told her seventy-five percent of the truth now, without intending to. “I mean, you saw Mitsuru.”

“Right.” Ichigo’s gaze became distant—she was looking past him. “I see.” She sighed. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too.”

“Next time will be the third time.”

Hiro touched the spot on his chest instinctively. Ichigo was watching his movements. “I know.”

“Are you going to fly with her during the kissing?”

He blinked, caught off-guard by the bizarre question. “What?”

“Oh…right. You were gone.” She turned toward the dining hall doors. “I guess Nana didn’t have time to tell you. 13 is kissing with Plantation 26, thirty-six hours from now. We’re part of the defense squad. We’re meeting Squad 26 later today, too.”

Her words had stirred an old memory in his brain. _Kissing._ It was admittedly a strange name for the exchange of magma resources between plantations. The enormous habitat domes were motile, though slow, and would send or receive magma stockpiles through a series of enormous pipelines—Hiro even remembered having seen them as a young child on a plantation tour.

“Cool,” he said, hurrying to keep up with her. “Are you ready?”

“I hope so,” said Ichigo. “26 is a lot more experienced than we are, anyway. I want us to meet expectations. Or…well, not be a burden, at least.”

She pushed open the door. An exquisite aroma of fresh bread and frying sausages greeted them.

“As long as you’re squad leader, I have complete faith in us,” said Hiro.

Ichigo smiled. “Thanks. By the way, I—”

“Darling!”

At the sound of those two familiar syllables, Hiro thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. All these idle hours wondering when—or if—he’d be able to see Zero Two again, and here she was barreling toward him, her long pink hair trailing behind her, her eyes sparkling, as though nothing had changed between them. She flung her arms around his neck and pulled the two of them closely together, and Hiro, who had been bracing for an excruciating stab of pain, felt nothing but a dull pulsing throb and a strange, almost giddy sensation of lightheadedness. Hiro returned her hug with an affectionate squeeze. Her face was close to his neck, and he heard her take a slow, deep breath of his scent.

“See you,” said Ichigo quietly from behind him.

“Good morning,” said Hiro, grinning at his partner.

She beamed and seized him by the wrist. “This way.”

Zero Two led him to the boys’ table. Unlike her second day in Plantation 13, she had claimed a table spot of her own this time; he recognized her plate at once, messily piled three inches high with rolls, sausages, and stir-fried vegetables mixed haphazardly together and all coated in a layer of honey.

“Sit,” she ordered, and Hiro took the seat next to hers obediently. “Here.”

It was an exact replica of their first time eating breakfast together; she was holding out an entire biscuit to him as though she expected him to swallow it hole, and honey was dripping down the sides and onto her fingers, and her face was puckered into a look of the utmost concentration. Hiro quelled his sudden urge to laugh out loud. Instead, he took a careful bite. It was overwhelmingly sweet. His lips grazed her finger accidentally, and he saw the slightest pink flush creep up her cheeks.

“Thanks,” he said thickly.

“This is happening _again_?” said Zorome in disbelief, two seats down. Goro was watching the scene with an expression of bewilderment.

“Um…” said Futoshi nervously, clutching a plate heaped with breakfast. “That’s my seat.”

Zero Two looked blankly at him.

“Futoshi-kun!” called Kokoro from the girls’ table. “Come sit with me.”

“What are you _doing_?” Miku sputtered.

“Well, there’s an empty seat, so I thought—”

Futoshi looked nervously over at his partner, who smiled encouragingly at him. “Don’t mind her.”

He glanced at the other stamens, who shrugged.

“Coming!”

“Gross,” said Miku, glaring. “Suit yourself, Kokoro. Don’t any of you other boys even _dream_ about getting invited over here."

“Wasn’t planning on it,” said Zorome. “High-pitched whining doesn’t help my digestion.” Goro rolled his eyes.

Zero Two seemed to have ignored the entire exchange; she was offering Hiro another bite of the biscuit, which he took gratefully. At the other table, Kokoro and Futoshi were mimicking the two of them.

“This is fun,” giggled Kokoro. Futoshi, too, was clearly enjoying himself. His eyes were closed and he was chewing in placid, blissful silence.

“You sicken me,” grumbled Miku.

Neither Ikuno nor Ichigo spoke, nor did they seem to be listening.

“One more,” said Zero Two. Hiro took it, and his partner licked her fingers clean with satisfaction. “Do you like it?”

“It’s delicious.”

Her ears, the tops of which were just visible through her hair, also blushed pink. Hiro felt his heart swelling with happiness as he watched her eat. There was nothing as adorable in the world as a Zero Two who was engrossed in her task and unconcerned with everything around her.

The world was right again. Zero Two had an urge to climb onto the rooftop of the dormitory building and dance. Darling was still alive—he was a little pale and tired, but he was still moving and talking and looking at her with kind eyes and sharing breakfast with her. Her level of excitement was almost alarming even for her—when his lips touched her finger she had had a very sudden and vivid mental image and had needed to concentrate not to let out a sound. She shifted impatiently in her seat. When Darling heard the news…she wanted to get out of this cramped little room full of judging stares and wrap herself around him and kiss him until the sun outside had set.

“Darling,” she said. “I need a favor.”

There was a crumb stuck to his cheek. She brushed it off.

“Go on,” he said.

“Can you show me around the dorm today?”

She didn’t know what Darling had expected her to ask, but that wasn’t it. His eyes widened in surprise. “Sure, if you want. When you’re done with breakfast.”

“I’m done,” she said promptly.

Darling brushed a crumb off the front of his shirt and rose from his chair. “Okay.” He nodded to the other boys at the table. “See you.”

“Mm,” said Goro. Zorome did not look up from his plate.

Zero Two felt like her head was buzzing. She grabbed Darling by the wrist and pulled him toward the door. He let out a little noise of pleasant surprise at her enthusiasm—she wanted to take that noise and seal it away and take it with her. In a moment they were out in the entry hall and the door was shut behind them.

“I—” said Darling.

Whatever he had wanted to say was stifled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and their lips pressed together. His chest was heaving with exertion, and his skin was very warm. She could still taste honey on his tongue. Darling returned her embrace with equal force, and the sensation of his increased strength sent a giddy feeling of excitement flooding through her body. If she stayed here too long, she was sure she would dissolve and melt away into nothingness.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” said Darling breathlessly, once they had broken apart. Zero Two took his hand again and led him toward the front door, to go out onto the lawn—a rapturous day like this, she decided, had to be enjoyed in bright sunlight. “Zero Two. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” He let out a little sheepish laugh.

“Dar-ling,” she said, singsong. “Silly. You know I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Hey, cut me a break.” He reached out and touched the tip of her nose gently with his index finger. “You’re pretty. Also, you can’t blame me for being worried. I’ve never broken out of the plantation and stolen something before.”

“Really?” said Zero Two, delighted. “That was your first time? It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Well…I think it’s an acquired taste.”

She giggled as they stepped out onto the deck in front of the dormitory building. It was pleasantly warm outside; the sky visible above the glass dome was so blue it was almost white, and the sun was sparkling. It exactly matched Zero Two’s mood. It was casting little hexagon-shaped pools of light around them from where it refracted through the panes in the dome. Darling sat. Zero Two laid down and placed her head in his lap, where she’d rested when he had bathed her on the first day.

He began to stroke her hair, and since they were alone, she could finally let out a moan. Darling blushed a little bit.

“Seriously, though,” he said, after a second. “What did they do? Where did they take you? The APE people, I mean. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I’d like to see them try,” she said. “No, they didn’t. They _did_ actually arrest you, though, Darling.” She cracked open one eye and squinted up at him, though the sun shining behind his head was very bright. “At least for a little bit. The doctor told me about it. He smoothed things over. They wouldn’t be able to hurt you, you know. Because you’re my darling.”

She grinned. Darling looked a little confused.

“What about you? You weren’t under arrest?”

“They wouldn’t even try. Not unless it was a direct order from Papa. Strelizia and I are more valuable to the council than every single one of those APE mask-faces put together.”

“But…I mean, I didn’t dream it, right? They grabbed us both and pulled us out of Strelizia.”

“The doctor told them to do that, too. For a safety precaution. He likes safety precautions. He was worried that if I wasn’t restrained until the situation got explained, I would have killed them.”

“And you—”

“Would have, of course.” She opened both eyes and studied his face. There was a complex mix of emotions there—pride, embarrassment, satisfaction, sadness.

“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I would have, you know,” said Zero Two. “You’ve seen what I can do to a klaxosaur, and they’re about five hundred times the size of a human.”

“I know,” said Darling again, with a hint of a laugh. “I’m flattered. But don’t hurt people for my sake. Even if they would have done the same to us. They use us as tools to make us fight the klaxosaurs for them. That’s what makes us different—that’s why we’re better than them. We’re stronger.”

“Hmm,” she said. “If you say so. _Don’t hurt people_ …after what you pulled in the atrium…”

“That was different,” he said. Now he was grinning. “They were going to take you away from Plantation 13. All the rules are out the window if that happens. I don’t care who it is, even if Papa himself shows up at our front door and says you have to leave. I’m not letting them break us apart.”

Darling was too perfect. His voice was like honey of the soul. She saw his brow furrow minutely, and his fingers paused in their motion; he seemed momentarily distracted by something. Then he said, “Sorry. That’s not how I meant that to come out. I mean, I don’t want Papa or APE or anyone to try to pull us apart. But that’s as long as you want to be my partner, Zero Two. If you stop wanting to fly with me, I’ll respect that. Even if it would break my heart.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Darling,” Zero Two said serenely. “As long as I want to be your partner? You mean, until the end of time, right.”

He flushed a very deep red. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t forget the promise you made to me above the city, did you?”

“I could never.” He leaned over and kissed her. She savored the taste; at the angle she was lying, she could catch the scent of his neck, where his smell was the strongest.

“More,” she said, after he pulled away. He obliged.

“Tell me when you want to get up,” he said. “I’ll take you on a tour of the dormitory. I know the best spots.”

“Mm.” His phrasing had recalled something else she wanted to ask him. “Darling, have you heard of sex?”

“Sex?” The way Darling pronounced it was funny, like he was chewing on the word, or trying to give it two syllables. His brow was furrowed in concentration. “No, that doesn’t sound familiar. Is it like kissing?”

Zero Two giggled. “A little bit.”

“So that’s another thing you’re going to show me?”

She covered her mouth with both hands to stifle her laughter. He was too adorable. It looked like Darling had taken it as a _yes_.

“Soon. If you’re lucky.”

“We can’t do it now?”

His eyes were wide, earnest. It was a genuine question. Zero Two couldn’t take it. She started to laugh so hard that she choked.

* * *

“So here’s the bath. Well, you’ve been here before. But normally we have to take our shoes and socks off, and put them here. It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Ohhhh. I see.”

“The girls’ rooms are down that wing. The boys’ rooms are this way. As far as I know, they have the same layout. I’ve only been inside the girls’ wing once, though. We’re usually not supposed to go there.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’m pretty sure the girls wouldn’t want any of the boys near their bedrooms, though.”

“Why not?” Her eyes were round, green, and innocent.

“This is my bed. Sorry about the mess. That’s Goro’s bed. They put our clothes for the day in the dresser, which is over here.”

“Who does?”

“I don’t know. It’s the same every day, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Hiro scratched his chin absently. “In Mistelteinn, everything is planned for us ahead of time. When we wake up, when we go to sleep, what we eat, what we wear.”

“That’s weird,” said Zero Two. She was staring very intently at the glass pitcher on the bedside table, through which the sunlight from the window was sparkling.

“I think you’re the weird one,” said Hiro, grinning. “You didn’t even get in trouble for stealing Strelizia.”

“I think _you’re_ the weird one,” replied Zero Two serenely. “You _did_ get in trouble for stealing Strelizia.”

“You’ve been in the forest before, obviously.”

“I like the lake.”

“So you might not know this, but they actually built this entire section of the plantation specifically for Squad 13. I’m not really sure why. Our theory is it’s supposed to resemble Earth’s surface back when it was inhabited by humans. But they really put a lot of work into it. I mean, we even get weather in here—more than what we get outside, anyway. It rains sometimes.”

“Rains?” Zero Two turned to him, blinking in confusion. “What’s rains?”

It wasn’t often that it happened anymore, but Hiro was still surprised that there was no rhyme or reason to which things Zero Two knew about and which things she didn’t.

“It’s weather,” he said. “It gets cloudy, and water droplets fall from the sky.”

Her eyes widened in complete bewilderment. “Water falls from the sky?”

“Hard to believe, but it’s true,” said Hiro.

“Do it now.”

“Do what?”

“Make it rain,” she demanded.

“Wh—I can’t make it rain.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t. Papa and the council decide when it happens, I think.”

Zero Two’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Hmm.” She turned away from him and stared out the window again, upward at the glass dome which encircled the forest. “Fine.”

“So I think I covered everything,” said Hiro. “Sorry, I know it’s not a very exciting place to live. Why’d you ask me to show you around today, anyway?”

Her ears suddenly flushed red. She looked sideways at him. Her eyes were glowing with excitement.

“Wait a minute,” said Hiro slowly. “Are you saying…”

“I live here now, Darling.”

There. She’d said it. She’d told him. She hopped in place a few times to release some of her excitement. Darling was staring at her. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope,” she said proudly.

“We…we live together now?” said Darling hoarsely, as though he was afraid to hear the words spoken.

“Yep.”

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “I’m dreaming. No way. You’re actually…”

Darling seized her suddenly around the waist and lifted her bodily into the air. He was stronger than he had been when they’d met. For a moment, she could imagine that her body had followed her heart and taken flight. Then he was kissing her all over her mouth and cheeks and neck.

“No way what?”

She recognized the irritating voice at once. The short boy with mousy brown hair, the one who had offered to pilot with her, had suddenly appeared in the hallway without warning. The tall boy who was the squad leader’s partner was accompanying him. It seemed as though they had abruptly stopped conversation.

Darling’s lips broke contact with her cheek and he looked over at the newcomers in surprise.

“I’m moving in,” said Zero Two happily. She watched as the color drained from both stamens’ faces.

“Hiro?” demanded the short boy. “What’s she talking about?”

“Are you stupid?” she said. “It’s exactly what I said. I’m going to live here now.”

“There’s no way that’s allowed,” said the stamen.

“ _Your_ partners both already live here,” said Darling. “What’s the problem?”

“Yeah, but she’s—”

Darling was staring at the boy with one raised eyebrow, inviting him to finish his sentence. He faltered.

“Do we have room?” interrupted the taller boy, looking between Zero Two’s face and Darling’s. “Aren’t all the girls’ rooms taken?”

“If they are, I’ll just share Darling’s bed.”

The effect of that sentence, though she hadn’t anticipated it, was delightful. All three boys turned cherry-red, and the shortest one took a horrified step backwards, as though he’d suddenly seen a disgusting insect crawling up the wall.

“Okay, yeah, _that’s_ definitely not allowed,” said Darling under his breath. He was avoiding her eyes.

“You don’t know that yet,” she sang.

“Jesus,” muttered the shortest stamen, shaking his head.

* * *

“Nana.”

“Ichigo. You’re looking well. Good work in the last battle, also—I was instructed to give you a special commendation for your efforts.”

“Thanks.” Ichigo scuffed the tip of her shoe against the floor uncomfortably. She wondered if Nana was even telling the truth—she knew that, outside of Hiro and his partner, Squad 13’s contribution to defeating the worm-klaxosaur had been all but nonexistent. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me?”

“That’s part of it.”

“I see.” The sinking feeling in her chest increased slightly. “Is it about Zero Two, then?”

“Sharp as always.”

“She’s moving into the dorm, isn’t she? Zorome said something about it this morning.”

“Indeed.”

“Does that mean Hiro is a qualified parasite now?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Nana’s round, kind eyes fixed Ichigo with an intense appraising look. “Ichigo, I’d like to ask you to do your best to make Zero Two feel at home.”

Ichigo felt her nails digging into her palm. Her hands were clasped behind her back. “With all due respect, Nana, is there any reason why you’re asking this of me specifically? It’s all of Squad 13’s responsibility to welcome Zero Two as one of us.”

Nana smiled slightly. “If you have a guess, it’s probably right.”

“I’d like to formally request that the council mind their own business,” muttered Ichigo.

“I’ll pass it on.” The aide’s eyes twinkled.

The briefing room door opened with a soft _click_. Ichigo turned and took her seat in the center of the lowest of the circular benches, as the members of Squad 26 and Squad 13 filed silently into the room. She watched the members of the unfamiliar squad take seats, reciting their code numbers in her head. 090 was their leader, a handsome square-jawed boy with thick, messy brown hair; 167 was his “sidekick,” a stamen with a thick bandage wrapped around his head, obscuring one eye. There was a deep scar under the other eye, and he always seemed to be hovering ghostlike at the shoulder of 090.

The conversation with 26’s leader in the hangar had not made her feel any better about the upcoming mission.

_“Wow, your FRANXX all look so different.”_

_“What do you mean? Isn’t that normal?”_

_“Of course not. All of Squad 26’s FRANXX are identical. We have the same weapon loadouts and equipment. It makes it much easier to coordinate as a team. I’ve heard about you guys, though. I guess it makes sense for the experimental squad to have experimental FRANXX too.”_

They were a patchwork makeshift squad with strange-looking FRANXX, almost no combat experience, an unwanted visitor living in their dorm, and—Ichigo remembered with an unpleasant twinge in her stomach—Ikuno still had no partner to pilot with.

“Is everyone here?” Hachi’s voice dragged Ichigo back to reality. “I’ll get started.” He tapped the corner of the holo-display at the front of the room; it whirred to life, and a gold-colored schematic appeared in the center of the display: two large circles, marked _13_ and _26_ , connected by a glowing beam.

With a telescopic pointer, Hachi tapped the glowing line. “The kissing process began about four hours ago, and takes roughly 72 hours to complete. We detected a group of klaxosaurs,” he tapped a spot in the unoccupied void outside the schematic, where several dozen blue specks appeared, “here. They’re moving this way, likely attracted by spillover from the magma transfer. We expect their arrival within 33 hours.”

“How many is that?” whispered Futoshi.

“Between one hundred and one hundred fifty,” said Hachi.

Ichigo heard several people within the group gasp in shock.

“If they reach the pipeline, they’re likely to destroy it,” continued Hachi. “We’re placing Squad 26 as a vanguard, here.” He indicated a line just below the one which represented the magma pipeline. Another smaller _26_ appeared next to it. “We’re keeping Squad 13 in reserve, as backup.” Another line appeared next to the first.

“What?” said Zorome loudly. “Backup?”

“Indeed,” said Hachi. “Squad 26 has significantly more combat experience. With this many klaxosaurs, it’s likely to be a chaotic dogfight.”

“It’ll give us all a better chance of survival if our squad is able to work independently,” said 090, smiling warmly at Zorome and Miku, who were sitting together.

Zorome’s face turned pink in indignation. “Did you just—”

Miku grabbed her partner’s shoulder. “Whatever you’re planning on saying, don’t.”

“But he—!”

Hachi cleared his throat loudly at the front of the room, and Zorome fell silent, though he was still glaring at 090.

“Moving on,” said the aide drily. “We expect the majority of the klaxosaur assault to be coming from southeast.” He tapped the board once again, and a series of blue arrows extended from the mass on the far left side of the diagram, pointing toward the two plantations. “Considering the circumstances, the council has decided to deploy a FRANXX capable of solo combat here, on the other side of the pipeline, as a vanguard.”

“Solo combat?” echoed 090.

“I wonder who he’s talking about,” muttered Miku sourly.

“I’m on the edge of my seat,” said Zorome.

“FRANXX aren’t designed for solo combat,” said 090 slowly, ignoring the comments of the parasites behind him. “Does Plantation 13 have another custom spec FRANXX?”

“Temporarily, yes,” said Hachi. “It’s—oh, and speak of the devil.”

Everyone in the briefing room, quiet as it was, was able to clearly hear the hum of the door opening again, and the soft sounds of two pairs of footsteps as the last missing members arrived.

Ichigo looked up unwillingly. She was _so tired_ of seeing the two of them constantly hanging off of each other—after last time, even briefings were no longer sacred. The face of Code 090 caught her eye as she turned. He was chalk-white. In the dim blue light cast on them by the holo-display, she could very clearly see the heavy bags under his eyes; it looked as though the stamen had suddenly aged ten years.

“002,” he breathed.

Zero Two heard someone speak her name. It wasn’t Darling, so she didn’t much care who it was. But the sound had stirred a very faint memory in her brain somewhere—she had heard that voice before. It would have had to be years ago. Or maybe all the non-Darling boys that infested the plantation that looked identical to her eyes were starting to sound identical too.

A rustle passed through the little crowd inside the briefing room. They were all turning now—turning to look at her and Darling. Gawking at them like they had been brought here to be put on display, when the only sin they had committed was being five minutes late. There were many, many more parasites in the room than usual. Another squad was here. They must have been summoned to assist in defense during the kissing ceremony—as if she would need any help, with Darling in the pilot’s seat.

Hiro felt his hand brush Zero Two’s side, and realized upon looking down that he’d extended an arm instinctively to…to shield her from the stares of the parasites in the briefing room? She certainly needed no protection. But there was something about Squad 26’s looks—all identical—that made him feel uneasy.

He saw Code 090 stand up.

“Sir,” said 090. He was the only parasite in the room not staring at them; his eyes were fixed on Hachi. He looked pale. “I’d like to pull 26 out of this operation. I’m not willing to put everyone’s lives at risk for _her_ sake.”

“That’s out of the question, 090,” said Hachi emotionlessly.

“Then pull _her_ out,” said 090 angrily.

“What’s wrong with you?” interrupted Zero Two, looking at the squad leader’s profile with mild interest. “You look sweaty.”

Code 090 turned toward them finally. Hiro saw the muscles in his jaw clenching. “You know exactly what’s wrong, 002. How—how dare you say that to my face? In front of all of Squad 26, no less.”

“You lost me,” she replied, her eyes wide with curiosity. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” shouted 090, his face turning paler. “Eighteen months ago, the joint operation between plantations 26 and 71. You went rogue—defied orders—you drew aggression from the horde onto our entire squad. They tore us to pieces!”

“That doesn’t sound familiar.”

“My partner is dead because of you!” bellowed the squad leader, extending one shaking index finger to point at Zero Two. Her eyes moved from his face to the tip of his finger.

“Your partner is dead?” repeated Zero Two. “Why didn't you protect her?”

090’s breathing had become ragged. He took a step forward—Hiro did the same, nudging Zero Two to move behind him, until his and Squad 26’s leaders’ chests had nearly touched each other.

“What?” said 090 blankly.

“Don’t.” He had fought klaxosaurs before. Somehow, squaring off against a fellow stamen was more frightening. “I’m Zero Two’s partner. I’ll ensure that neither of us do anything irresponsible on the mission.” Hiro tried not to blink as the other boy’s eyes bored into his own. “Like attack a fellow parasite.”

090 jabbed his finger into Hiro’s chest. “Are you trying to be funny?”

Hiro sucked in a sharp breath as the touch aggravated the dull pain that had been throbbing in his chest since he woke up. “Don’t touch me.”

“Darling,” said Zero Two in his ear.

“That’s enough,” boomed Hachi. “016, 090, 002. Sit down. 090, request denied.”

090 took a step backwards, still staring at Hiro, his chest heaving.

“You’ll regret this,” he said quietly. “One day. When it’s your life on the line. You can’t trust her.”

Every pair of eyes in the briefing room was turned on them.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

“Sit,” repeated Hachi.

Zero Two yawned.

* * *

Moonlight was falling on the bedspread. The attic room had a skylight.

It’d been uninhabited since they moved in. Ichigo couldn’t even remember why the dormitory had an extra bedroom in the attic. And up here, in the dead quiet, she had plenty of time to ruminate on it. A gentle breeze was spilling through the open window. The girl standing leaning against the wall was making no sound, nor was she moving—she might have been a statue.

Wouldn’t kill her to offer a hand, would it?

She finished tucking the corner of the sheet under the mattress.

“This’ll be your room,” Ichigo said unnecessarily.

“I see that,” said Zero Two. “I’d rather stay with Darling.”

Ichigo turned to look at her. The taller girl was lounging against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, regarding Ichigo with a totally blank expression.

“I’m sure you would,” she said evenly. “But if you’re going to live in Mistelteinn, you have to abide by our rules. Hiro has a roommate already. And girls and boys aren’t allowed to room together.”

“Why not?”

“Is that a serious question?” asked Ichigo, raising one eyebrow. “If it’s a joke, it’s not funny.”

“But you and I are allowed to be alone together in here,” said Zero Two. “Do you trust me?”

Ichigo suddenly heard her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“That’s what I thought,” said the other girl quietly. “Don’t worry. Darling belongs to me. I don’t need anyone else. As long as I can be with him—”

“Hiro doesn’t belong to anyone,” snapped Ichigo.

“You’re bossy,” observed Zero Two.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Ichigo braced herself. “Can you come with me for a bit? I have something I need to ask you.”

The little greenhouse behind the dormitory building was brightly lit even at night, and it was casting long, spidery shadows behind the two of them, which faded into the darkness in the forest undergrowth which lined the path.

Ichigo had begun to regret this little excursion the moment the dorm passed out of eyesight. At first, it had seemed like the ideal place to talk—far enough away that neither of them would be overheard, but close enough that she could get back to safety in case of…

Zero Two was still looking at her with piercing eyes, and she was perfectly still. Catlike. A cat stalking its prey.

In case of what?

_Do you trust me?_

Ichigo felt the cool breeze tousling her bangs and her nightgown—the thick, soft, beige-colored nightgown that all the parasites wore to bed, which Zero Two was now wearing for the first time. She looked very strange dressed in something that was not bright red. On occasion the breeze caught her gown as well and pulled the cloth tight against her body. Ichigo tried not to look at her silhouette. It was like staring into the sun.

“Listen,” said Ichigo.

Outside the dorm, with no walls reflecting the sound, her own voice seemed to wither and blow away into the darkness of the forest, like smoke. She steeled herself.

“I don’t care about the incident with Squad 26,” she said. “It’s none of my business. But as part of Squad 13, I expect you to follow my orders, as everyone else does. We’re strongest when we’re working together.”

Zero Two’s eyebrow cocked a fraction of an inch. “That’s what you brought me out here for? Okay. Understood. I’ll remember that.”

She turned in the direction they had come, to return to the dormitory, but before she could stop herself Ichigo had reached out and grabbed the other girl by the arm.

“What?” said Zero Two shortly.

“Please don’t push Hiro too hard.”

Seemingly in spite of herself, the other girl turned back to regard Ichigo with a look of bemusement.

“Darling was the one who asked to ride with me.”

“I know that.” Now that she was actually touching Zero Two, a small section of Ichigo’s brain was telling her very insistently to run. “But just…just try not to put a heavy burden on him, okay?”

“Darling chose me,” said Zero Two again. “Are you still upset that he can’t pilot with you? You had your chance.”

Ichigo let go of her arm as though the contact had burned her. “Leave me out of this.”

“I tried to.” Zero Two blinked. “You’re the one who brought me out here. I don’t know what you want.”

“I want to protect Hiro.”

“But Darling belongs to me,” said the pistil yet again, her eyes wide.

“He _belongs_ to you, huh?” said Ichigo quietly. “What if he gets hurt? What if he can’t pilot anymore? What if he dies?”

“If he dies, that means he wasn’t strong enough,” replied Zero Two, her eyes still wide with confusion, her expression still blank, as though the answer had been obvious.

For a moment, the thump of Ichigo’s heartbeat drowned out all the other sounds around her—the soft creaking of tree frogs, the rustling of cloth and swaying underbrush. She slapped Zero Two in the face.

The contact knocked the other girl’s headband off, and it landed with a little clattering noise in a patch of grass on the path.

“He’s just food to you, isn’t he?” breathed Ichigo. “So you’re not human after all.”

Zero Two’s entire body stiffened.

Ichigo noticed, idly, an odd sensation of simultaneous burning heat and freezing cold, and as her anger burned hotly and she clenched her fists, the icy sensation of terror creeping up her spine told her that she was going to die.

She saw, as though through an X-ray, the muscles under Zero Two’s skin quivering with suppressed energy. When the strange klaxosaur girl spoke, it was with great difficulty.

“ _Human?_ ”

Zero Two stepped forward. Instinct bade Ichigo to retreat.

“Tell me something, then,” said Zero Two. There was something like a reddish tint in the whites of her eyes. “What is _human_ to you people?”

It began to rain.

Cold droplets of water were falling on her, cooling her forehead, soothing the spot where the little squad leader girl had slapped her cheek. _Rain._ This was what Darling had told her about. A sea falling from the sky. Like swimming in slow motion. It was so deliciously cool. The feeling reminded her of touching him.

She turned away from the other girl and stooped to retrieve the headband, concealing the shaking of her limbs. If she injured a member of Darling’s squad—especially now, right before the mission—she knew she would never see him again.

The leader’s sweet cinnamon-y scent was calming her. The raindrops alighting on her head were calming her. She donned the headband again. The old feeling that she had memorized, like a thick blanket placed over her senses, muting the remains of her smoldering anger. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

When she opened her eyes again, the other girl had vanished.

* * *

Hiro awoke with his body searing with pain.

For a long time, he laid in bed, motionless, staring at the underside of the top bunk.

In sixteen hours, he would fly a third time with Zero Two. If he was not strong enough, the thing on his chest would expand and the heat and agony would consume him. He would vanish, like the children in Garden a decade ago who had been deemed unsuitable to become parasites; like the grizzled scarred stamens who had served as Zero Two’s partners before him; like 090’s partner; like Naomi.

If he was strong enough, he could fly with her. He would belong to Zero Two, and she to him.

Hiro had expected to be terrified as the final moment began to close in on him. He was not. He would be strong enough, or he would die. The idea of it was somehow enormously soothing.

He drank from the glass on the bedside table. He slipped out of the room, leaving the sleeping Goro undisturbed. He ascended the stairs to the attic two at a time, his bare feet tapping the wood gently. The spare bedroom was not technically in the girls’ wing, so he was not technically out of bounds—even if he was, what kind of punishment could APE possibly inflict on him? In sixteen hours, he was to reach either heaven or oblivion.

Zero Two was already awake when Hiro entered the room. She was sitting cross-legged on top of the bedspread, facing toward the door, her face upturned toward the uncovered skylight and her eyes closed peacefully. As he stepped into the room, he saw her mouth curling into a smile.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“You came to see me.”

He sat next to her. His heart was swelling with happiness. “You look very beautiful this morning.”

Zero Two opened her eyes at last. Her irises were sparkling like emeralds. Her cheeks were turning pink.

“Did you know that nobody else can make me blush?” she murmured.

“Is that true?”

“It’s because you’re so genuine. You say sweet things to me, and I can taste how honest you are. I’ve never spoken to a person like you before.” Zero Two hugged her knees. She was looking down at the bedspread, and her cheeks were turning redder. “It makes me feel very lovely.”

Hiro moved behind her, so that his back was almost touching the headboard, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She placed her hands on top of his. He kissed her neck gently.

“Mmm,” said Zero Two. “Keep kissing me. Forever, please.”

“Forever,” echoed Hiro. “I’m glad you decided to sleep in that. It suits you really well.”

“You just like that I’m not wearing anything underneath it.” She giggled.

“What?” said Hiro, with genuine surprise. “You’re not?”

“Of course I’m not, dummy. How uncomfortable would that be?”

She gripped his wrists and moved his hands upward, until he was touching her breasts through the cloth. “See?”

Hiro’s head was spinning.

He squeezed gently, before his brain had time to tell his hands not to. He gasped. What an amazing sensation.

Zero Two giggled again—it transformed from a laugh to a moan as he began to kiss her neck.

“Stop it. You shouldn’t be good at this. It doesn’t—ah! It doesn’t make any sense.”

He slipped his hands under the nightgown and resumed the motions against her bare skin. He was astonished at how warm and soft she was.

“I can’t help it. Being near you is overloading my senses. I have to hold you and touch you and kiss you at all times, or else I’ll starve to death.”

“Mmm,” said Zero Two sleepily. “Have your way with me.”

She leaned back cozily against him. The back of her head touched the mark on his chest. He winced.

Zero Two sat up straight at once and turned around so that she was facing him; her peaceful expression was gone and her eyes were wide and afraid.

“I knew it,” she said. “You’re hurt, aren’t you? I heard you gasp when that boy touched you yesterday.”

“It’s…it’s nothing.”

Hiro knew before the words had even left his mouth that the lie was pointless. She deserved him being honest with her, especially now—and even if he tried not to be, she was perceptive and he was not a good liar.

“Okay,” said Hiro resigned. “Here.”

He pulled the nightgown off over his head.

Zero Two was staring at his chest; her expression had become blank.

Unwillingly he looked down. The raised bluish patch had expanded slightly, and the edges were tinged purple as though the skin they touched was bruising. More noticeably than ever, Hiro could see the surface of the thing pulsating in sync with his heartbeat. He grit his teeth and looked up.

He had expected Zero Two to be confused, or afraid, or perhaps even disgusted, and the lack of any of those three emotions was what frightened him more than anything else. Her face was totally blank. It was as though someone had let down shutters behind her eyes.

“Tonight will be our third flight,” said Zero Two softly.

She knew. No—more than that. She had been expecting this all along.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flicked upward to meet his. He thought he might have seen a teardrop sparkling in the corner of her eye.

“Now is your last chance to back out,” said Zero Two, with a hint of a humorless smile. She looked lost.

“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, Zero Two,” he replied. “I’ve meant that every time I’ve said it, and I always will.”

“I know you will,” she whispered. “Kiss me again.”

She leaned forward. Hiro placed his index finger over her lips.

“Wait,” he said. “First, I want you to promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“I need you not to forget. Whatever happens to me when we pilot together tonight— _no matter_ what happens to me—you promise me not to blame yourself. From the moment we met at the lake, I chose you. I knew the risks, and I chose you. Whatever happens to me, you could not have stopped me. I have never been happier than when I’ve been with you. This pain doesn’t change that. Do you understand?”

She leaned forward so that her forehead was touching his collarbone, above where the growth had spread, the blades of her horns pressing into his skin. Tears were falling thick and fast from her face onto the bedspread.

“Of course,” said Zero Two. “Of course I promise.”

“I’m glad.”

He kissed the top of her head, as he had done many times before.


	6. The Silent Plantation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an adaptation of one of my favorite episodes of the source material.
> 
> hiro promised 02 a bath. you can find it in my Side Stories fic, chapter 6.5.

Nestled arm in arm with Zero Two, in the comfortable bed in the attic under the skylight, Hiro dozed and did not wake until early in the afternoon.

When he woke up, Zero Two was sitting cross-legged in his lap, staring very intently at his face.

“Morning,” she said. “You look very peaceful when you’re asleep.”

She grinned at Darling. She knew he liked the way she grinned at him. She could always see him sneak a look at her fangs, like he thought she might not notice. He was the only person who didn’t make her feel self conscious about them.

She decided it was best not to tell him what she’d actually been thinking as he slept. Zero Two did not normally get anxious before missions; by now, she had been through too many. But it was Darling’s third flight, and she was not ready yet to face the realization of what might lay ahead of them at the end of the night. And besides that, being too near him set her head aflame, with the way his scent soaked into the bedcovers, and the sound of his breathing, and the minute rustling of his hair from the breeze through the open window. All that anxiety had to go somewhere, after all. Zero Two had been digging her nails into her palms to retain her concentration while she waited for him to wake. He was so warm and lovely and handsome and she was quivering with pent-up energy and she desperately wanted to tear the nightgown off of him and—

He reached out with his thumb and pointer finger and plucked off a dust bunny that had been clinging to her eyelash. Zero Two willed herself not to react to the touch.

“We’re flying together tonight,” he said quietly. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Me too,” she said, truthfully.

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

Zero Two placed her palm on his chest, near the collarbone, above where she knew his wound was so that she wouldn’t hurt him.

“I’d love to,” was what she wanted to say, but instead what came out was “I’d rather have _you_ for breakfast.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Hiro had to return to his room to change into his uniform. Afterwards, he and Zero Two descended the staircase in sock-clad feet.

The sitting room doors, positioned opposite the entrance to the dining hall, were cracked open and he could see a group of parasites sharing the couches inside. He could vaguely make out voices, though no words were audible. Zero Two probably would have been able to hear them, but it was evident that she had no interest in anything other than breakfast with Darling. He was happy to oblige. Since the mission started at night, the parasites were to have most of the day to amuse themselves as they pleased.

He stopped short as he entered the dining hall, and Zero Two, who had been pulling him by the arm, looked back in confusion. Hiro had expected the place to be deserted, since the two of them had woken up so much later than everyone else—but there was a familiar face there, a boy seated at one of the tables, staring back at him and Zero Two with an unreadable expression; a face he had for some reason not expected to see again. All of the events that had taken place since the disastrous mission inside the mineshaft were rushing through his mind. He opened his mouth, searching for a greeting; he could not think of anything to say.

“Morning,” said Mitsuru.

“I didn’t know you’d been discharged,” said Hiro finally.

“Well, surprise,” said the other, poking listlessly at a sausage link on his plate.

Zero Two left Hiro’s side wordlessly, making for the long table still laden with food that ran along the far wall. Mitsuru stared at her as she passed him, but she made no sign of recognition or even acknowledgement.

“Are you feeling better?”

Mitsuru’s pale eyes turned back to him. Moving closer, Hiro could see that his appearance had not improved much since the hospital visit; his skin was yellow and papery and there were deep bags under his eyes. The wound on his face, where the skin had been scraped off, was now a clean semicircular scar. Mitsuru looked, if anything, more worn-out than ever.

“You decided to pilot with her after all.” It was not a question.

“Yeah. She’s amazing.”

Mitsuru lifted his glass of water to his lips and drank without breaking eye contact.

“Amazing, huh? I hope so,” he said. “For our sake.”

“Our sake?”

“You look confused,” observed Mitsuru. “Did you forget we’re both in Squad 13?”

“But you can’t pilot,” said Hiro. “Ichigo told us about…well, she told us what happened.”

“Oh.” For the first time, the pale boy’s mouth twisted into a smile. There was no mirth in it. “Yeah, I guess she would have. But Ikuno has a little charity left in her heart, I guess. Even for little old me.”

“Ikuno is piloting with you again?” repeated Hiro.

“Not like she’s got a choice.” Hiro could not tell whether Mitsuru wanted to laugh or not. His voice was hard and bitter. “It’s the same for all of us, isn’t it? Our usefulness to the adults disappears exactly the moment we can’t fly those fucking robots anymore.”

Hiro could not think of a reply.

“I’m sure it’s _awful_ for Ikuno to share a FRANXX with me,” said Mitsuru impassively. “But it’s—”

“Yeah. I get it.” He did not want to hear any more.

Zero Two reappeared next to him, carrying a plate in each hand. As was usual for her, they were both heaped four inches high with food all piled haphazardly together; though, thoughtfully, it seemed that she had only chosen to drown one of them in honey, leaving Hiro’s plate relatively unsullied. She was beaming at him, having still taken no notice whatsoever of Mitsuru.

“Let’s eat outside,” she said. “The sky is so clear today. It’s beautiful.”

“You got me a plate too? That’s sweet.”

He took it from her and gave her a peck on the cheek. She blushed and grinned, completely unabashed—it was as if they were the only two people in the room.

“Wait,” said Mitsuru, as they both turned to leave. Hiro turned back. Zero Two stopped where she stood.

“Now what?” said Hiro.

The other stamen was staring at the back of Zero Two’s head.

“Zero Two, you’re part of 13 now as well, aren’t you?” said Mitsuru.

She turned toward Mitsuru, and for the first time, their eyes met. Hers were glowing, but very faintly, so faintly that Hiro doubted anyone but himself could have noticed. It should be easy, though, for anyone to notice the hostile presence that was suddenly emanating from her; he was shocked that Mitsuru indicated no reaction whatsoever.

“Yes,” said Zero Two.

“So I’m your squadmate.”

Zero Two stared at him.

“You understand what squadmates are, right?” said Mitsuru coldly. “We work together and so on. We’re part of a team. So—”

“Get to the point,” she said.

Mitsuru blinked. “What I’m getting at is that you owe me an apology.”

“An apology?” repeated Zero Two blankly. “What are you talking about?”

Hiro saw the other boy’s jaw clench in frustration. It was the first sign of emotion he had given since the two of them had entered the room.

“You injured me pretty badly,” said Mitsuru. “It took me several days to recover. That’s not something you’re supposed to do to squadmates. I know you’ve got special permissions for pretty much everything because of Papa and the council, but you should still—”

The aura of hostility around Zero Two was so strong now that Hiro half-expected it to start ruffling his clothes like a light wind. Somehow, though the gown she was still wearing was loose and made of thick fabric, he could sense her muscles tensing; she was controlling herself.

“I haven’t laid a finger on you,” breathed Zero Two.

Mitsuru’s face split into an ugly scowl.

“Even your partner doesn’t believe that,” he said softly. “You didn’t get in trouble for it, you know. The adults don’t care. All I want is an apology, since we’ll be working together…it wouldn’t kill you just to say sorry.”

Zero Two made to move forward; Hiro stayed her with a hand on her shoulder.

“I believe her,” he said.

“Of course you do.” Mitsuru traced the outline of the scar on his cheek, almost unconsciously. “I don’t see any scars on you. Double digits really are something else. So is that a _no_?”

“Give it up,” said Zero Two. “You parasites don’t have any idea what partners actually are, do you? You had your chance, and it’s gone now. You can’t have him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The pale gaze shifted from Zero Two back to Hiro’s face. “Well, I take it back, then. Best of luck tonight. You two really deserve each other.”

“Zero Two,” murmured Hiro into her ear. He felt her tension lessen slightly. She blinked; she looked away from Mitsuru and back to him. “Let’s go.”

Mitsuru’s cold unblinking gaze followed them as they left the dining hall.

Zero Two couldn’t believe that she would be able to love Darling more than she did already. She generally had so much trouble controlling her anger. A tiny part of her even felt a little guilty for it, whenever the stamens APE gave her and the guards and the adults walked on eggshells around her. But the pale boy in the dining hall occasioned no sympathy whatsoever; the scent he gave off was cold and bitter, almost rancid, and in normal circumstances Zero Two would have considered him already dead. It was nothing like the gentle cinnamon-y aura that she detected from the squad leader girl whenever Darling was nearby—it was toxic, venomous.

She had been an inch from dropping her plate and picking up the pale boy by the lapels and tearing out his tongue so that he could no longer insult Darling and herself. But Darling’s voice—the gentle touch on her shoulder—an exquisite gesture of kindness that the cold harsh walls of the plantations could never have taught him—as always, they were like a splash of cool water on a sweltering day, and she had felt her anger vanish as soon as it came.

It was to be their third flight together. Zero Two promised herself that she would be gentle. Darling would survive; he _had to_ survive. He would be strong enough.

* * *

Goro reached out his fist in their customary greeting, and Ichigo bumped it.

“Morning,” he said, grinning at his own joke. It was nearly sunset. “You look ready to go. Did you sleep okay?”

“Not really,” said Ichigo, smiling back at him. The tight knot that had been in her stomach all day loosened slightly. “It sucked, actually. I just couldn’t stay asleep.”

“Same here. I hate these nighttime missions.”

“Mmm.”

Argentea’s and Genista’s crews passed them in the hallway on their way to the hangar, all four parasites talking animatedly amongst themselves. Goro raised his hand in greeting as they passed; Kokoro and Futoshi nodded at him, but Zorome and Miku appeared to be in the midst of an argument and were not paying attention.

“Anyway,” said Goro. “You ready to make that 26 guy eat his words?”

Ichigo bit her lip. “Well…yeah, a little bit. But tonight, we’re all part of the same team. We have to protect the plantation together.”

“Just what I’d expect from a squad leader.”

She blushed. The knot tightened again.

Goro leaned in slightly and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You didn’t enjoy getting called dead weight any more than we did, though.”

“You’re right,” she murmured. “Honestly, I’m just really, really relieved that we don’t have to go into this shorthanded, on top of everything else that’s happened.”

She realized a second later that he wouldn’t have understood what _everything else_ was referring to, having not been party to her argument with Zero Two. Fortunately, Goro didn’t press the issue; he simply nodded.

“Ikuno’s feeling better, then?” he said quietly.

“That’s what she told me.” Ichigo lowered her voice even further, until even someone standing six feet from them in the deserted hallway would not have been able to overhear it. “I don’t believe her, though. I don’t think anything has changed since last time they flew together. But I have to let her make this decision on her own. It’s for the good of the squad. Just don’t tell anyone I said that, okay? We just need to get through this mission in one piece, and then we can—”

Goro glanced over her shoulder and cleared his throat warningly. Ichigo stopped short. One of the changing room doors behind her had slid open, and she heard footsteps now; if she turned to see who it was, it would only make their little hallway discussion look even more suspicious.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Goro continued in a normal voice. “The best thing for us to do is focus on getting through this mission together. The adults are relying on us more than ever this time.”

Ichigo chanced a look behind her. Ikuno was ambling toward them, and her arms were crossed across her chest. Her gaze was distant, and characteristically she seemed to be turned inward, as though she hoped the two of them would not notice her.

“Go on ahead,” said Ichigo quietly to her partner. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“You got it. Say hi to Hiro for me, too.”

Goro waved and departed. Ikuno, whose unfocused eyes had turned to watch the two of them, stopped walking.

“Hi,” said Ichigo, trying to smile, though her face muscles felt sluggish. “Did you sleep okay?”

Ikuno looked at Goro’s retreating back, then back to the squad leader. “It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

A silence stretched between them. Ichigo tapped her foot uncomfortably.

“Ikuno—”

“I heard you.”

“What?”

“I know you were talking about me.” Ikuno huddled her shoulders slightly closer together. She was staring distantly after Goro, who had now turned the corner at the end of the hallway and vanished.

“Who? Me and Goro? We were just…”

“Don’t lie about it. It makes it weird.”

“I wasn’t going to say we weren’t.” Ichigo wanted to reach out to the other girl, to put her hands on her shoulders and comfort her, but something made it very difficult for her to move. “We’re just worried about you. I know it’s hard for you to pilot with Mitsuru, so…I need to be responsible for the well-being of the squad, you know?”

Ikuno turned to look at her. The fluorescent lighting strips reflected blinding white in the lenses of her glasses for a fraction of a second.

“Do you think this is helping?”

“I…” Ichigo blinked. “What?”

“You’re still making it weird,” said Ikuno quietly. “Can you stop it, please? Leave me alone.”

“But…” Ichigo felt like she was deflating. “I was…worried about you. That’s all. If you’re happy to pilot, then—”

“Look, I know you’re really into the _squad leader_ role, but I didn’t ask you to worry about me, did I?” Ikuno’s voice was cold and distant. “Let me make my own decisions for once.”

Words failed Ichigo completely. Ikuno stared into her face for a long, silent moment, then she brushed past Ichigo and left in the direction of the hangar, the soft taps of her boots on the floor tiles the only sound in the hallway.

Hiro emerged from the changing room, walking gingerly, as every movement pressed the molded chestplate against his wound.

Pain was forgotten momentarily as the sight greeting him in the hallway caught him by surprise. Ichigo was alone: her partner was nowhere to be seen, and she was staring down the hallway at nothing, like she had seen a ghost.

“Hey,” said Hiro, and she jumped. “You good?”

Ichigo flushed at the sight of him, and her hand jumped instinctively to the spot where she wore her hair clip, as though she were checking to see if it was still there.

“Sorry. I got distracted by something.”

“Something invisible?” said Hiro.

“Don’t be dumb. How are you feeling?”

“Excited. I could hardly sleep all night.”

“Neither could I,” she said. “I took a bath at around three, though. It helped me relax.”

Ichigo looked uncharacteristically nervous, and despite himself, Hiro found himself searching for a way to help put her mind at ease.

“That’s a really good idea,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought of that. I know we’re going to do well as a squad as long as you’re in command.”

Ichigo blushed deeper. “That’s up to the others too. And how much we’ve focused on training, and how well we’re able to keep level heads.”

 _Classic Ichigo._ “Sure it is. But you were chosen as leader for a reason, you know. Everyone in the squad trusts you with their lives. That includes me.”

“Th-thanks,” muttered Ichigo, no longer meeting his gaze.

 _Well, except for one person,_ Hiro reminded himself.

She appeared, as though the stray thought had conjured her into existence.

“Hiro—” began Ichigo.

“Darling,” sang Zero Two, as the changing room door slid shut behind her. “It’s almost time.”

“Can’t wait,” Hiro replied, turning to her and grinning. “Ichigo, were you going to say something?”

“Um…” Ichigo turned away, still touching the hair clip with the tips of her fingers. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll see you in the hangar,” she added, and with that she was gone.

Zero Two threw her arms around his neck from behind. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and a tress of her hair tumbled down onto his chest, bringing with it the strong exquisite scent that it always did. She kissed him gently on the neck; a tingle moved down the side of his body. He looked sideways at her. Her eyes were fixed on Ichigo’s retreating back, and her brow was furrowed in very deep concentration.

“Hey,” murmured Hiro. “Don’t ogle people in the squad. Especially if they’re not me. It isn’t polite.”

“I’m not,” said Zero Two indignantly. “I wonder if the doctor would let me use a suit like hers, instead of this one.”

“Oh, the white pistil suit? You don’t like the red?”

“Red is alright, except that it hurts my eyes sometimes. But I’m part of Darling’s squad now. I’d rather match you.”

“You’d look beautiful in white,” admitted Hiro. “But red suits you really well, too. I like the way it matches your hair and your eyes. You can probably ask Nana about the suit after we’re finished tonight. Also you’re still staring at her.”

“Maybe I am,” said Zero Two, though her tone was unapologetic. “She’s the squad leader, but she’s so tiny. I could pick her up with one finger.”

“I guess you could.” Hiro was not sure where his partner was going with this train of thought.

“And she gets very heated when she’s angry…” Zero Two sighed. “The parasites in Squad 13 are really something.”

“You have a crush on Ichigo, don’t you.”

“Darling, you’re not jealous, are you?” She looked up at him mischievously from where her head was resting on his shoulder, and he could see that her cheeks were deep pink. “You’re the only one for me.”

“I know. I just wanted to see you blush.”

“Wait a minute. How do you even know about crushes?” Zero Two was glaring at him suspiciously.

“I…” That was actually a good question.

“Hmm,” she said.

“I must have read about them when I was younger,” mused Hiro. “In Garden.”

“Garden?”

“It’s where we grew up. The children who pilot, I mean.”

Zero Two’s expression changed suddenly. Her playfulness vanished; the look of intense concentration she had worn when watching Ichigo was turned on him now. She was searching him for a sign of something—though what it was, he had no idea, and it did not seem as though she saw it.

“You never lived in Garden?” he said.

“ _Garden_ ,” repeated Zero Two. “No, I never did. Tell me about it sometime, Darling, will you?”

“Of course.”

* * *

_“We’ve got clear weather tonight. Twenty-two point six degrees C and wind is coming from the northeast at eighty-one meters per second. No changes to estimated time of contact. Code 090 has field command.”_

_“Strelizia, stand by.”_

The ground crews of Plantation 13 had erected a concrete barrier around the exposed transfer pipes. Zero Two sat atop it, cool wind blowing on her face, and Darling sat cross-legged next to her, and Strelizia stood unmoving behind them, the hatch of her cockpit hanging open, ready to greet them. Zero Two was annoyed that the wind was carrying Darling’s scent away from her.

Normally she’d be furious that they’d told her not to fight—did they really think it was more efficient to make Squad 26 handle it, rather than her?—but tonight, for the first time in living memory, she had something more important to worry about.

“What _is_ that thing?” said Futoshi, awestruck.

In the midst of the klaxosaurs that Squad 13 were watching approach the plantation, there was a massive shadow, roughly rectangular in shape—a form hundreds of feet high, many times larger than a ground transport, a form that dwarfed the FRANXX as the FRANXX would dwarf an ant on the ground.

 _“We’re treating it as hostile,”_ said Hachi. _“We assume it’s a klaxosaur. It doesn’t match anything on record, but it appears to be capable of moving under its own power.”_

“How the hell are we supposed to fight something that big?” said Miku. Even her typically irritable tone was dampened by shock. “It could crush all of us just by falling over.”

_“We don’t. Not yet. We’ll collect what information we can. In the meantime, Squad 26 will engage the smaller enemies.”_

“Understood,” said 090 rapidly. “26, move up and establish a line of defense.”

The other members of 26 barked their acknowledgements, and moved in unison to follow their leader’s orders.

Ichigo watched them with a pang of reluctant admiration; their movements were so perfectly coordinated that the line of FRANXX might have been remote-controlled by a single operator.

Darling was perfectly still as he watched the battle unfolding below them. Zero Two wondered if he was afraid.

“They move so well together,” he murmured at last. “The other squad. That’s what we’re supposed to look like someday, huh?”

“Do they?” Zero Two was not paying attention to their formations; she had something more interesting to look at. “All the squads I’ve worked with are like that, except yours. And I don’t like it at all. They feel like klaxosaurs to me, when they all move perfectly together like that. It’s like there’s nothing inside those FRANXX.”

“Is that why you prefer working alone?” said Darling, looking sideways at her. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Who knows.”

Darling said nothing, but his gaze did not return to the battlefield, and he continued to watch her as the distant sounds of metal crashing against metal played softly below them.

“Zero Two, why do you fight the klaxosaurs?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm…what better way to kill a monster than another monster?”

Darling said nothing to that, either, though she had expected him to.

“What about you?” she asked. “Why do you fight them?”

“Mmm.” He scratched his chin contemplatively. “The children of the plantation were born and bred for it. It’s our reason for living—to protect Papa and the other adults, and each other, and to keep the plantations safe.”

“That’s it?”

“Two weeks ago, it was.” Darling grinned wryly. “I think for the others, that’s probably still why they fight. It definitely is for Squad 26.”

“And now?” said Zero Two, knowing the answer.

Darling’s hand was suddenly at the small of her back; he was scooting her body closer to his so that without warning they were pressed more tightly together than they could be in the FRANXX cockpit. Before she realized what had happened, she was sitting in his lap, and they were facing each other, and Zero Two could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around them and hugging him very tightly, pushing her body into his own until they were as close to being one person as it was possible to be, even though she knew that it would aggravate the pain in his chest—the pain birthed from the ugly pulsating growth where her unclean inhuman blood had left her mark on him, as it had done with so many others. The abrupt, overwhelming wave of excitement and pleasure was tainted for the first time by a hot feeling of shame; she hid her face in his shoulder so he would not detect it.

“Kiss me,” he said, his breathing slightly ragged.

They kissed—oh god, what a beautiful word that was, _kiss_!—as they had never done before; they were both dying of thirst, and the mouth of the other was the only refreshment that could slake it. Darling was pulling her closer to him, his hand at her waist, disregarding the pain that must be building in his chest, and she felt rather than heard his labored breathing; he was starving for her touch, and she his. Zero Two longed to remove both their suits, to press bare flesh against bare flesh, to feel his kisses over every inch of her body. It was the hungry kiss of a dying man casting his earthly shyness and hesitation aside. An overwhelming urge to cry rose in her throat, but she forced it down; she would not cry in front of him, not in these blessed few seconds that they were permitted to share before they had to enter the FRANXX and fight; there would be ample time afterwards for her to cry.

“I have a silly confession to make,” he whispered to her after they had broken apart, as her head spun and tingles ran up and down her spine.

“What’s that?”

“I…when I touched you this morning, under the nightgown…I’ve been…I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about it. Even though we’re about to fight for our lives. Is that normal?”

The sadness and an inexplicable urge to giggle both merged together and twisted inside her.

“I think so,” she said.

“I’m obsessed,” said Darling. “With you. With your…with your hair and your scent and the way you smile and your fangs and your…”

He ran his hand through his hair, self-soothing; he was grinning sheepishly and his cheeks were red. “I feel like my head’s going to explode. In a good way. I just…I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

Zero Two started to laugh again. It was nearly crying. She could not help herself.

“What a dumb thing to be worried about,” she said. “Especially now.”

“I told you it was.”

Darling’s cheeks had flushed deep red. He was gazing distantly over her shoulder.

Zero Two kissed him once more on the cheek.

“Whatever else happens,” she said, “don’t you ever, ever stop kissing me or touching me or telling me sweet things. I live for it. I only need two things. I kill klaxosaurs because the doctor tells me to, and I stay with Darling because every time he speaks, it sets my whole body on fire.”

* * *

The tiny klaxosaurs which were clustered around the massive black shadow had begun to overwhelm Squad 26 by sheer numbers. Behind them stood Squad 13: an inexperienced squad, not battle-tested, poorly coordinated and jumpy, and yet somehow enormously valuable to the doctor and Papa.

“Look, Darling,” said Zero Two excitedly, and she pointed unnecessarily in the direction of the battlefield. Hiro peered at it; his eyesight was not as strong as hers, and (especially in the darkness) he could make out little more than a roiling black and gray mass, punctuated with occasional blue and yellow flashes. “I think they need our help.”

She was quivering with anticipation; he could see her chest heaving with excitement. Hiro’s hands were trembling, though he was not sure excitement was the culprit. The pain in his chest, which had faded during their kiss, was back in full measure—it had become a sharp, continuous stabbing pain, and it was creeping down his arm.

“Let’s go, then.”

Zero Two beamed. Her eyes were glowing.

Strelizia alighted on the battlefield like a landing butterfly.

Squad 26’s defensive line had broken; they were clustered together into small groups scattered across the square half-mile separating the klaxosaurs on one side and the plantation wall on the other. They were three or four apiece, each FRANXX standing shoulder to shoulder with its brothers, fending off their attackers with the long slim magma energy glaives that they carried.

Zero Two was right; Squad 13 had barely been keeping up.

Through Strelizia’s eyes, Hiro watched his partner scan the battlefield. It was too dark, and everything was moving too fast, for him to understand her, though he could catch glimpses through their connection: she was planning a path.

 _Watch,_ she said.

 _Impress me._ He lent Zero Two his mind and body.

Strelizia unsheathed the Queen Pike. A low _thud_ as her boosters ignited. She shot forward like a ballistic missile.

For an instant frozen in time, Hiro watched Strelizia’s arm extend and her pike slice bodily through a klaxosaur; effortless, a knife through butter, like a praying mantis striking. Afterward, the lights and shapes around him stretched and merged into a single indistinct mass, through which he and Zero Two were flying at what must have been twice the speed of sound.

Strelizia slid to a halt. The white-hot tip of the pike was hissing.

 _How many was that?_ asked Zero Two.

_I couldn’t see anything. Weren’t you counting?_

_Of course I was,_ she said smugly. _I wondered if you were keeping up._

The spot on his chest seared with unbearable pain. It was getting worse. An electrical current was running through the nerves of his left arm, and something was trying to force open his ribcage from within.

For a moment, like the feeling of dozing off, he felt his grasp on Strelizia slip. The sensations in his body flickered across his consciousness. Only for a moment.

_Darling, is that all you’ve got?_

Zero Two was exuberant. Her energy was coursing through the cockpit, throbbing like an enormous heartbeat. Hiro reconnected.

_Not yet._

_That’s better,_ she said.

“016.” 090’s voice blared suddenly in his earpiece, furious. A crash of cymbals. Nails on chalkboard. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping my squad,” said Hiro, keeping his voice—and face, though 090 could not see him—as blank as he could make them.

“Violating a direct order,” said 090, talking over the end of his sentence. “You can’t just do whatever the hell you want. Get back to your post.”

Hiro tried to respond, but Zero Two dropped the connection.

_Darling, you told him you’d keep me in check._

_I think my exact words were, “I’ll make sure we don’t do anything irresponsible.”_

_Well, those sound the same to me,_ said Zero Two.

_Whichever one I meant, we both know I was lying._

Strelizia cut apart two klaxosaurs with swipes of her pike, and as the displaced clouds of blue blood settled on the sand, Delphinium appeared behind them.

“Strelizia,” said Ichigo, and her voice was urgent. “Get back.”

“Not yet,” replied Hiro. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth were aching. Colors were flashing in his vision. “I can go on.”

“Get back to your post, you idiot!” she shouted.

“Bossy,” said Zero Two.

_“All units, be advised. Target Beta has stopped moving. Stand by and prepare for combat.”_

Anger momentarily forgotten, Ichigo turned to look up at the massive unmoving shadow.

“How is it even going to attack us?” she whispered. “It doesn’t have any limbs.”

 _Focus,_ said Goro. _Something that size could flatten us easily._

She looked back. Strelizia had gone.

Something inside the nondescript black cuboid was arousing a cold fury inside Zero Two.

 _Wake up,_ she said. _Wake up so I can kill you._

Darling’s mind was fading in and out. His pain was so intense that she could taste it on her tongue. It was harsh and acidic.

 _Stop stalling,_ she told the klaxosaur. _My Darling is in pain. Hurry up and die, so we can get out of here._

Perhaps it heard her, and decided to take on her challenge, or else it was just a coincidence.

The front face of the massive beast split vertically like an opening mouth, revealing its insides, sparkling with that nauseating blue glow that she so detested. As it began to move, the thing was letting out a shriek; a horrible shrill bone-shaking noise, a drill directly into the front of the skull. Darling began to yell in pain, and his own voice mixed with that of the beast.

A handful of the FRANXX from the other squads had doubled over, hands clutching their heads: the instinctive protective motion of the pilots inside them. It was no good, of course. Nothing could protect them from hearing that screech.

The huge klaxosaur was uncurling. For a split second it looked like a blooming flower, before it resolved into a recognizable shape. Protrusions like stumpy limbs were extending from it, four in total; a matched pair on top—“arms”—and one below—“legs”—and the glowing blue hole in its insides had migrated upward to the top of the mass, to where a face might be on a creature that walked upright on two legs, though on the klaxosaur it was merely a blue shapeless blob; the word “face” would be shamed by comparison.

Zero Two was so angry that she could no longer see clearly.

So the monster wanted to play at being human, did it?

* * *

_“All units, be advised. The large klaxosaur appears to be a Gutenberg variant with more advanced form-changing capabilities.”_

“Okay, great!” shouted Zorome, any pretense he’d made at proper communication protocol long abandoned. “So how do we fight it? It’s the size of a fucking plantation!”

“We’ll have to EMP it, probably,” said Ichigo. “That’s our best bet. Our weapons aren’t going to put a dent in something that big.”

 _“015 is correct,”_ said Hachi. _“Squad 13, fall back. Squad 26 is better-equipped for this. Code 090, proceed.”_

“Roger.”

_At least they’re staying out of our hair,_ said Code 227.

 _Finally,_ agreed 090. _You know, it doesn’t make any sense to me that 015 is in a makeshift test squad. Why not have her lead a larger unit? She’s clearly capable._

_Who knows._

It took every ounce of concentration Zero Two had to stay still. Her blood was boiling. She needed to kill the Gutenberg. She was seething with fury, staring up into its mockery of a face.

If she moved now, Darling would hurt even more than he already did.

Zero Two stayed still.

The gray FRANXX of Squad 26 moved, as always, in perfect unison. They formed an evenly spaced circle around the feet of the massive beast and raised the tips of their weapons to point at its head.

Code 090 gave the signal, and they all fired. Fifteen white-hot spearpoints arced through the air, each connected by a thin wire to one of the weapons which 26 carried, and each one embedded itself in the flesh of the Gutenberg, around where its waist would have been.

Zero Two covered her eyes in time. The wires ignited all at once; arc lightning leapt from the FRANXX to the places where their weapons were buried in the klaxosaur, making a loud high-pitched crackling and hissing noise as they liquidized the sand. The hide of the klaxosaur glowed bright red, then white; it was shrieking in pain, grasping at the spearheads, and smoke was billowing off of its body. The murky darkness was split in two by blinding light.

The screaming noise calmed Zero Two slightly. The thing was in pain. That was good enough for now.

_Darling, they might need us soon. Be ready._

Hiro’s body was slick with sweat. The tightly bound pilot’s suit was suffocating him. He concentrated only on forcing himself to breathe—it was the only thing he could do. The klaxosaur’s pained shrieks were boring into his skull. He breathed: in, count to three, out. In, count to three, out.

_I’m ready._

_Only a little longer,_ said Zero Two.

_I know._

Ichigo waited for the horrible sound to end.

 _Christ, that’s loud,_ said Goro in awe. _Almost makes you feel bad for it._

Something was wrong with the Gutenberg. It was screaming and flailing its massive arms in every direction, but it was still conscious—or alive? What could you call a klaxosaur, anyway?—and its movements were only becoming more violent. The FRANXX that were trying to pin it down had some leeway with how far their wires could extend, but it wasn’t infinite; besides that, they would run out of power soon, and then the Gutenberg would be enraged and no longer immobilized.

Ichigo found herself hoping that Strelizia would act. She could see the red and white FRANXX at the very edge of her vision, bathed in the darkness outside the ring of light that Squad 26’s attack had created. Strelizia was eerily still, moreso than she should have been: she was not reacting at all to the sounds or the vibrations that the klaxosaur was causing with its stamping feet.

It was Hiro’s third flight tonight. Surely he, of all people, could survive it.

 _He’ll be fine,_ said Goro. _Hiro is strong. After watching the two of them, I don’t think Zero Two would let him die._

 _Sometimes I wish you couldn’t hear me,_ said Ichigo.

At the end of an eternity which had lasted less than half a minute, the Gutenberg retaliated.

With an earsplitting roar, it brought down its “fists” on the sand, like jackhammers the size of skyscrapers. Its skin burned white; through her headset, Ichigo heard the members of Squad 26 letting out cries of pain, as she saw their weapons glowing red-hot or else being torn from their hands by the huge klaxosaur’s sudden movements.

A second later, the shockwave reached her. It struck Ichigo in the face like a falling meteor. She only had time to tighten her grip on her paired swords and protect her head with her arms before the blast lifted Delphinium bodily into the air in a whirlwind of sound and displaced sand. Goro let out a shout of surprise as the shockwave ripped his hands from the controls.

 _“Fall back.”_ Hachi’s voice was urgent—one of the few times she’d ever heard him sound worried. _“EMP appears to be ineffective. Retreat to the walls and protect the plantation.”_

“That didn’t work?” screamed Miku. Her mic peaked painfully in Ichigo’s ears, and the squad leader sucked in her breath in discomfort.

“Miku,” she said. “Calm down.”

“We’re all going to die, Ichigo!” shouted Argentea’s pilot.

Delphinium struggled to her feet, wiping sand off of her faceplate.

_She’s probably right._

“Wait,” said 090 urgently. “Look.”

They all looked—both squads, in perfect unison, for the first time in the night.

There was a blinding white gash in the Gutenberg’s “chest,” large enough for the combined height of every FRANXX unit to fit through.

“Now!” shouted 090. “13, go!”

“Wait—” stammered Ichigo. “Us?”

“My squad is nearly out of fuel,” said 090 rapidly in her earpiece. “Take it out, quickly! Before it recovers!”

“Okay. Okay, understood.” She switched to Squad 13’s channel. “Argentea, follow me. Genista, Chlorophytum, stay back.”

“Roger,” replied the other three. Argentea and Delphinium were by far the fastest FRANXX in the squad.

_Oh, look,_ said Zero Two. _It’s hurt._

It took the majority of Hiro’s remaining energy to crane his neck to look up. His vision was flickering, but even at this distance, in the darkness, the enormous glowing gash was clearly visible.

 _They did something after all,_ she added, with idle amusement.

“Of course they did,” said Hiro aloud.

“Hiro.”

“Ichigo?”

“We’re going to knock it down and keep the opening exposed. You and Zero Two need to deliver the finishing blow.”

 _So she_ can _stop being bossy,_ observed Zero Two delightedly. _How cool!_

“Roger,” gasped Hiro. _Zero Two, I can hang on for another minute. Guide me._

 _Of course,_ she said at once. _Take my hand._

It was a figure of speech that did not really apply inside a FRANXX’ cockpit, but he appreciated it all the same.

_Now go. Show me how strong you are, Zero Two._

Two little pointed shapes were streaking toward the unmoving Gutenberg. Delphinium and Argentea, by the looks of them and the colors of the accents on their chassis. Even in a time like this, Ichigo had been able to make a split-second decision to maximize their chances of victory and protect as much of the squad as she could. No wonder even Zero Two liked her. How lucky he had been to serve under a squad leader like that.

Strelizia was traveling nearly twice as fast as the other two FRANXX, and the huge matte black monster was rapidly expanding in the viewport, the glowing wound in its center growing brighter and brighter.

Delphinium and Argentea impacted the Gutenberg on either “shoulder,” and though Hiro could no longer hear anything outside the cockpit, he saw splintered fragments of the klaxosaur’s outer shell being ejected into the air by the force of their contact. Their boosters were glowing red-hot, almost imperceptible next to the huge bluish-white gap for which they were aiming, but Hiro understood—they were simply trying to push it over.

With a guttural groan, the upright klaxosaur toppled onto its back. Sand billowed into the air around the point of impact. Its wound opened wider. It was directly facing the sky, and they were falling toward it like a ballistic missile.

_Darling._

A current of ten thousand volts was running through him. Every cell, every nerve ending in his body was screaming in pain. The heat inside the cockpit was going to melt his skin. Strelizia’s eyes were fixed on a point in the center of the Gutenberg’s chest, where the wound was widest.

 _I see it,_ said Hiro.

He was no longer in the pilot’s seat. The pain had formed a little white-hot cocoon around him, and he could not touch or taste or hear. He forced his arms to move the controls forward. Trapped in the little steel cage together, they plummeted toward the klaxosaur’s massive body.

From very far away, Hiro felt in the bones of his shoulders the impact of the spearhead penetrating the beast’s hide. The cockpit had begun to vibrate. He knew it was screaming again in pain, but hearing had left him, so he simply observed the sensation with idle interest. The Gutenberg bucked, but Zero Two’s grip on the spear’s shaft could not be broken.

 _Good aim,_ said Hiro. _Hey, big guy, we got the same injury, didn’t we? I hope it doesn’t hurt like mine does._

 _We did it,_ she said happily. _You came with me, Darling._

_I made it, didn’t I? Good job, Zero Two._

A blinding whiteness assaulted him from all directions. He had lost the ability to associate the pain with his own body. The connection with Zero Two snapped. Hiro could not move. He made an attempt to control his limbs; his head had fallen forward, and looking down at his body, he could see that the blue mass had spread, that his left arm and leg were suddenly covered with swollen veins, and the other parts of his exposed skin were grayish and transparent as though the blood had been drained out of them.

Like the klaxosaur he toppled forward, out of the pilot’s seat into yawning gaping darkness.

* * *

Ichigo’s ears rang with pain.

“They got it, right?” panted Zorome. “For the love of Papa, please tell me they killed it.”

“I think so,” said Goro.

Ichigo pushed herself up into a kneeling position, leaning on the hilt of one of her paired swords. She turned to look across the prone klaxosaur’s chest, toward Argentea, who seemed to have recovered and was also struggling to sit up. Thank god they were both alive. Strelizia, too, was kneeling, with both hands clutching the shaft of her pike. She had used her own bodyweight to drive it further into the beast’s chest, deep enough that less than half of the length of the weapon was still visible.

Then Strelizia crumpled, like a huge marionette whose strings had just been tossed away, and she fell—not like a human losing consciousness, but as a disorganized array of welded-together pieces would, and her head crashed against the jagged glowing white surface where the Gutenberg’s body had been split apart.

“Hiro,” said Ichigo. “Hiro. Strelizia, get up. Get up. What’s wrong?”

The two of them could not be tired yet, not until the Gutenberg had stopped moving and they knew that everyone was safe. Why was Strelizia not moving?

“Strelizia!”

_Ichigo, get up._

“Strelizia!”

_Ichigo. Get up. They didn’t destroy the core. This thing is going to start moving again soon, and if we’re still standing on it, it’s going to smash us into scrap metal._

“Shut up, Goro! Strelizia! Hiro!”

_Ichigo, he can’t hear you._

She tore herself from the neural interface and the murky darkness inside the cockpit washed over her vision. She scrambled to disengage the cradle harness—she needed to talk to Goro, to make him understand—they had to save Strelizia, because Hiro was inside it—but before she had even started to move, to try to scramble to her feet, her partner had crossed the cockpit in a step and seized her by the shoulders.

Ichigo wanted to shout at him, but the expression on Goro’s face sent a chill running down her spine.

“Listen to me, Ichigo,” he said quietly. “Focus. We need to look after our own lives too.”

“No. No.” She shook her head wildly. A lock of her hair detached from the swan-shaped clip and fell across her face. “Not if they’re in danger.”

“Ichigo, we’re in danger too.”

“I don’t care!” she screamed.

The Gutenberg’s chest heaved. The cockpit was upended, sending Goro crashing bodily into one of the side panels; he let out a grunt of pain. The cradle protected Ichigo from the worst of the jolt. Sky and ground revolved madly in the viewports. As they fell, instinct borne of training took over; Ichigo slid smoothly back into the FRANXX’ neural interface, and Delphinium regained control of her limbs and landed heavily on all fours on a mass of sand that had been displaced by the Gutenberg’s impact.

The klaxosaur was shifting again. Ichigo wondered if it felt pain. Its right forelimb was morphing; it was no longer arm-like, but simply a gigantic misshapen blocky mass with one face perfectly flat; a colossal hammer, one that could easily crush a ground transport to dust.

She realized, a millisecond before it happened, what the Gutenberg was trying to do. The klaxosaur struck its own chest with the hammer-like forelimb, and blood and sparkling bluish fragments erupted from the wound where it hit, along with the glowing red-hot broken tip of the magma energy pike which Strelizia’s limp hands could no longer hold.

Ichigo shouted a warning that nobody would hear.

* * *

Hiro stood on the catwalk, shivering, hands tucked into his armpits for warmth.

The world outside the plantations was desolate, brutal—a featureless ocean of yellow sand that stretched who knew how many thousands of miles in every direction across the barren planet surface.

There should have been wind blowing, but it was silent and still. Nothing moved; the entire plantation behind him was blank, devoid of life—a sheer unmoving white metal dome. Other plantations, all the same in shape, were clustered around him, stretching in every direction as far as he could see. They were uncountable in number. There must be thousands.

He realized that he was not cold. He looked down; both of his arms and hands were whole and unblemished.

_I died after all._

He remembered waking up in the morning and being surprised at how little he had feared this moment. Being with Zero Two, touching her, breathing in her smell, seeing her smile, made whatever risks he would take worth it. Now it was the opposite. His body felt light and ethereal. The searing pain, so present a moment ago, was gone. He had kept his promise and sacrificed everything in order to fly with her. He should be happy with himself; he should be able to exist peacefully here in this halfway point between life and afterlife, until he moved on or his existence faded. But instead he wanted to cry and scream so loudly that his voice would split the walls of the plantations around him into pieces and reveal the creeping blackness behind them.

There was a girl standing here on the walkway next to him. She had left her suitcase behind.

“Hiro.”

An awful cold sickness welled up in his throat. First Zero Two, and now—

She was smiling gently at him. Hiro could not understand her expression—his previous partner had been an enigma even when she was alive. He moved forward and reached out to hug her; his arms passed through her body like smoke.

Hiro's legs failed him. He collapsed into a sitting position on the catwalk. The bubble of misery inside his chest was threatening to burst his ribcage. This was a different kind of pain than that which he had felt in the cockpit. He heard a very gentle _thump_ as she sat down next to him. Hiro began to cry.

“Why?” said Naomi softly.

“I can’t even hug you,” he said. “This is happening inside my head and I can’t even hug you. It’s not fair.”

She said nothing.

The contrast of white shapes and dark lines all around him was burning very brightly. It was too bright. This place was showing him a vision of the first time he had failed to protect his partner—of the first time he had been forced to be alone as someone innocent suffered in his place.

“You stupid idiot,” he choked. “Why did you stop me from getting on that transport?”

Naomi laughed gently. “Of all the things to be worried about right now.”

“I would have gone with you. Why did you go on your own?” He dragged his hands across his face; they came away stained with tears. “Why the hell did you make me say goodbye to you?”

Naomi said nothing again.

“I’d rather have died with you there on that transport,” said Hiro bitterly. “Then I wouldn’t have…then it wouldn’t…it wouldn’t hurt this much, if I did that. I left Zero Two behind, Naomi. Just like you did to me.”

She placed her hand on his elbow, comforting him. It was warmer than he would have expected—it was the only thing he could feel.

“I couldn’t save anyone,” he murmured. “You didn’t answer me, you know. Why did you stop me? Could you really not stand being near me for that much longer?”

“You’re an idiot,” said Naomi. “I hope Ichigo tells you that.”

Hiro closed his eyes, which were swollen and had begun to hurt. Tears leaked from under his eyelids. “She does, yeah.”

“She better. _Could you not stand being near me?_ That’s not a nice question to ask someone, you know, even if I _do_ know why you asked it. You don’t understand a thing, do you?”

“No.”

“I made the right choice,” said Naomi happily. “And I’ll stand by it.”

“How can you say this was the right choice?”

“Because I wanted you to live.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all,” she replied serenely.

“But I couldn’t help you when you needed it.”

“You really _are_ stupid.” Naomi grinned. “What, do you really think you could have stopped me from getting on that transport? You think you could have fought the adults and all the guards, and made Papa change his mind, all on your own?”

“Of course not,” said Hiro numbly.

“They decided you were special,” said Naomi. “So I saw the opportunity that I had, and I took it. Because you _did_ help me when I needed it, Hiro. You were kind to me, and gentle, and when I lived with Squad 13 it was the happiest I had ever been in my life. I wanted you to live simply because seeing you alive was a beautiful thing for me.”

For a moment, only a fraction of a second, Hiro felt the unbearable heat of Strelizia’s cockpit on his skin again, though he realized that what he was actually feeling was shame. He turned and looked at Naomi. She was beaming; in this flat colorless landscape with the featureless sky, she was as bright as the sun. There was a faint echo of Zero Two’s grin in her expression. The feeling of burning shame intensified.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said.

* * *

The Gutenberg picked up Strelizia’s limp form as a human would with the dead body of a spider, stared at her dumbly for a moment, then flung the FRANXX away from itself with its huge, clumsy arm. She soared three hundred yards and crashed into the base of the concrete wall that had been erected in front of the magma pipeline, and her limbs crumpled.

Goro fought back an urge to vomit.

“Hiro!” screamed Ichigo. She was desperate, straining against the mechanical restraints that kept them both locked safely down in the cockpit.

For the first time that night, it struck him how tiny his partner was. Compared to the colossal Gutenberg, of course, they were like ants under its feet—but this was different; something changed about Ichigo the moment Strelizia’s corpse landed; suddenly she was a helpless little girl locked into a mecha that would—within an hour, no doubt—serve as their shared coffin.

Hiro had never had the slightest idea how much Ichigo relied on him.

_I’ll never forgive you for this, you stupid selfish bastard._

Ichigo was pounding her fists against the dashboard. Numbly, automatically, Goro reached out to her and took hold of both her wrists. She flailed helplessly; she was trying to strike him with her elbows, but the cradle did not grant her enough range of motion.

“Ichigo,” he said. “Focus. We need to connect. We have to move. We need to stop that thing before it gets to the plantation.”

The ground rumbled. The Gutenberg, with its stubby leg imitations, was walking; the blue smear on its upper body that could not be called a face was pointing directly at Strelizia; it seemed to have chosen a new target.

“All FRANXX in Squad 13, move to intercept the Gutenberg. It’ll crush Strelizia if we don’t do anything.”

“Roger,” said Zorome and Miku in unison at once.

“I-intercept it?” stammered Kokoro.

“Just slow it down,” said Goro. “We need to buy time.”

“He’s right,” came Mitsuru’s voice, hardly audible, speaking for the first time since the operation began. “If it gets past that wall, the plantation will be in danger.”

* * *

For the first time since he had awoken, something moved.

A white shape—almost impossible to make out among the hundreds of plantation domes around them. It was the same color and material, though smaller; in the silence, Hiro’s brain filled in the rumbling sounds of the massive treads that should have been there but were not.

“We’ll see each other again, yeah?” said Naomi. She was standing at the end of the catwalk. With no suitcase to carry, her hands were clasped simply in front of her—and though the air was still, her hair was still blowing in the wind.

“Again?” echoed Hiro. “Aren’t I coming with you?”

For the first time, the smile faded from Naomi’s face. “I thought you said you understood. Is that really how little you think of what I did for you?”

His brain was moving too slowly to keep up.

“What about Zero Two?” added Naomi quietly. “Didn’t you do this for her?”

“I gave my life for her, Naomi,” he said. “What more could I have done?”

“For her, huh? You’re content to die and leave her alone?” Naomi’s lip curled. Her hands were on her hips. Her expression was hard and bitter—it was the first and only time Hiro had ever seen her this angry. “Coward.”

“Wait!”

The hatch slammed shut between them.

The transport moved away, and soon it was lost amongst hundreds of identical white unmoving domes. Hiro turned away. The light reflecting off of them was blindingly bright, and he could no longer bear to look at it.

The catwalk was gone. He was standing at the foot of an enormous tree with a thick gnarled trunk, so large he could have comfortably sit inside it were it hollowed out. Snow was heaped in drifts on the ground around it, and the branches, devoid of leaves, were dusted with snow as well. Hiro looked upward, but the top of the tree was not visible; thick rows of branches extended skyward, for hundreds of feet at least, before they vanished into a thick cloud of mist that hung far above his head.

_Where am I?_

Why was this place so familiar?

There was a little shape in a bundle of black rags lying at the foot of the tree. It was tiny—child-sized—and its limbs were entirely concealed by the threadbare robe. All Hiro could make out was a shock of hair spilling out from under the hood—long, dirty white hair, tangled and knotted. He could see the outline of tiny, thin, bony limbs against the fabric. There was something about the little shape lying there that made him feel intensely sad.

_Why has someone gone and left you alone?_

Like the tree, the little figure in the robes was starkly familiar. But there had not been any children in Garden who had white hair. Their uniform, too, had been gray, not black—though the rags covering the tiny shape could not be called a “uniform” even by the most generous stretch.

_Can I help you?_

He squatted in front of it and reached out a hand. The figure let out a soft noise.

_Are you hurt?_

The arm that he had extended was aching suddenly with intense, unbearable pain, as though it were being crushed in an enormous vise. Blood was running down his forehead, mixing with the sweat, dripping into his eyes. His head was aching where it had struck the wall of the cockpit. In front of him, something was letting out a horrible scream.

_Boom._

The walls shook. A shockwave vibrated throughout his body. The screaming thing was Zero Two.

Her hands were bloody and bruised. She had detached from the cradle; neither of them were connected to the FRANXX anymore. She was matching, in rage and intensity, the screams of the immense klaxosaur that wanted to crush them to pieces. She was pounding her fists against the front display. Two layers of reinforced plexiglass were crumpling under her blows.

_“I’m always alone, thanks to these horns.”_

He was immobile: a bag of bones stuffed into a suit. As Zero Two fought, the strikes of the Gutenberg tossed Hiro from side to side. His body _thud_ ded as he struck the walls and floor. It was the same sound the corpse of Code 119 had made, when Hiro had watched as Zero Two dumped it out of Strelizia’s cockpit.

How many times had she been driven to stampede after her partner died?

_“You’re content to die and leave her alone?”_

_Not yet._

He could not leave Zero Two now. Naomi had traded her own life in exchange for a second chance in his. All Zero Two had wanted from him was kindness and companionship, and those were what he had promised. No—he couldn’t die. He would not sully Naomi’s sacrifice. He _would not_ die. Not until all of his debts had been repaid.

The agony coursing down his arm, white-hot a moment ago, was dulled so abruptly that it was jarring; the feeling of suddenly running cool water over a burn. The muscles beneath the pulsing vein were suddenly responding—he could move. He could flex his fingers and form a fist. The pressure on his chest from the armor plating was loosening—he could breathe again.

Zero Two was screaming, and blood was dripping off her chin.

He stood. His body was light. In the tiny cockpit, she was less than an arm’s length away from him. Hiro moved forward; he wrapped one arm around her waist, and with the other hand he wiped away one of the tear tracks that had formed on her cheek. Her skin was burning hot. Beneath his touch, he could feel her chest rise and fall as she panted, and he could feel each of the fine translucent hairs on her skin; she was shaking.

“D…Darling?”

The word was uncertain. He felt like Zero Two might have nearly forgotten how to say it.

“I’m sorry for frightening you.”

“Darling,” she whimpered.

“You’re so strong.” Hiro kissed her neck very gently. Her breathing was ragged. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore, Zero Two. I’m here. I survived the third flight. It’s over.”

He felt Zero Two go limp in his arms. She was making soft little gasping noises; they could have been the beginnings of either sobs or laughter.

“Kiss me again.”

He kissed her once more.

“Again.”

“After the battle, as many times as you want,” he murmured. “Right now, we should save the others.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “One more.”

As they kissed a third time, the klaxosaur brought down its colossal blocky limb on top of them, and the welded joints of the cockpit shrieked in protest.

Hiro sank into the pilot’s seat again. They reconnected. The heat on his skin and the lingering pain in his chest were swept away in the glowing torrent of energy and excitement which Zero Two emitted like a burning flame.

The Gutenberg tried to strike them with its arm again, an arm the size and shape of an aircraft carrier, to finally crush Strelizia’s chassis. She reached upward and met it with equal force. The crushing power of the blow drove Strelizia’s arm, up to her elbow, through the klaxosaur’s outer shell into its bluish flesh. The Gutenberg howled, but it was not strong enough to withdraw its arm from her grip.

“What is it _doing_?” gasped Miku. “It stopped.”

“Something’s wrong with it,” said Goro.

Ichigo caught her breath and stared at the distant shape of the Gutenberg, eyes bloodshot and tear-swollen.

Zero Two gripped the klaxosaur’s arm with both of Strelizia’s hands and began to twist it clockwise. The Gutenberg screamed in pain; the armor plating on its limb began to crack, with an ugly inorganic sound of metal squealing on metal. She was winning an arm-wrestling match with a creature a quarter the size of the plantation, and some part of Hiro’s mind was cowering in naked unashamed terror.

 _Darling,_ she said. _I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as lovely as this._

He realized that the energy coursing through his body was partly his own.

 _We’re stronger than the whole world when we’re together,_ he said.

Zero Two purred in satisfaction.

She braced herself against the jagged edges of shattered concrete around where they had impacted the wall, and heaved, and the klaxosaur’s armlike limb began to split down its center as though it were being sliced by a colossal knife.

_Zero Two, go. Fly. I’ll be your wings._

A surge of power, so strong that it felt for a moment that his entire body could be atomized. It was like the opposing face of the searing, melting pain that had permeated his whole body since that morning; the same power and sensation, but rather than his body rejecting it, it had begun to energize him. Surely he, too, could lift the entire Gutenberg on his own now.

The boosters on Strelizia’s back and in the soles of her feet roared to life. They were lifting the body of the klaxosaur into the air, and the force was rending its arm in half lengthwise; in moments she would penetrate its torso and they would be able to destroy its core.

Strelizia reached for the clasp on her back which the Queen Pike dangled from, but her fingers grasped empty air.

 _Damn it,_ said Zero Two. _We can’t damage the core without the—_

“Hiro!”

A voice he’d heard before, in a previous lifetime. Hiro remembered with a jolt that there existed other people outside this little bubble of energy where he and Zero Two had joined together. Ichigo’s voice was hoarse. It sounded like she had been screaming her lungs out.

“Catch!”

 _She’s so quick,_ enthused Zero Two. _No wonder she’s squad leader._

Delphinium had flung the Queen Pike like a javelin, across the empty wasteland separating the two defense squads and themselves, and starlight glinted off of it as it flew toward them. With Zero Two’s enhanced eyesight, Hiro was able to see that the tip was broken and jagged.

 _Don’t worry,_ she said, answering his unasked question.

Strelizia caught the weapon easily in midair, rotated it 180 degrees and thrust it into the wall of blue flesh into which their upward force was driving them. Zero Two could sense the core. Hiro was in the middle of a volcanic eruption, boiling energy pressing against his body on all sides. It was transcendent. He closed his eyes and let it consume him. The broken tip of the Queen Pike sunk into the little golden orb that lay within the klaxosaur’s body, and their momentum carried them upward and outward and they burst through the other layer of black armor plating which covered the Gutenberg’s back, and the dark hot claustrophobia of the beast’s insides was replaced then by a night sky which was clear and sprinkled with stars.

The power that kept the klaxosaur’s shape-shifting form together was gone with the core. With a guttural noise it collapsed, and the hulking black corpse split into a hundred thousand fragments and rained on the sand like ash.

“Well, _that’s_ interesting,” said Doctor Frank, the slightest hint of a laugh audible in his words.

“Doctor!” Nana turned, startled, to look at him; neither she nor Hachi had heard his entrance. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just observing,” said Frank. He was staring intently at the little triangular icon on the holo-display labeled _Strelizia_. “Even the council didn’t see this coming,” he added, though seemingly mostly to himself. “Really, that boy has exceeded all expectations. He might even make Zero Two’s wish come true.”

“By _that boy_ , you mean Code 016?”

“Mm,” grunted Frank.

“Isn’t he the surrogate?” said Nana slowly. “You’re…you’re not planning something different, are you?”

The old doctor said nothing.

* * *

One by one, the FRANXX climbed onto the raised platforms in the hangar, rotated to face the exit, extended their arms to hang in their racks, and hung limp as their pilots disconnected.

All the parasites grouped together on the catwalk made a comical sight, Hiro thought; nearly all of them were spotlessly clean, and Mitsuru’s carefully groomed hair hadn’t even been disturbed. Of the other pairs, only Ichigo looked any the worse for wear, as her eyes were still swollen from crying. And in contrast to them, Zero Two was covered in bruises and her hair was tangled and matted with dried blood, and there was a line of it running down her temple to her chin. Hiro knew he looked no better, based on the aching in his limbs and the pounding in his head.

Most of the partners filed past them—Mitsuru and Ikuno first; then Kokoro and Futoshi, the former of whom gave Hiro an awkward little wave as she passed; and Zorome and Miku, who seemed to be engaged in some kind of argument yet again and did not take notice of them. Soon only Ichigo and Goro remained, and the stamen was hanging back, eyeing his partner expectantly; he seemed to be waiting for her to do something.

Ichigo took an awkward step forward at last, hugging herself protectively as Ikuno often did.

“Um…we owe our lives to both of you,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse from shouting. She was not meeting their eyes, but staring intensely at Hiro’s boots. “Hiro, Z-Zero Two, um…well done. And…thank you.”

Hiro smiled, and reached out his fist toward Ichigo, who realized what he was doing and bumped it with her own. Her cheeks flushed dark red. Goro nodded approvingly behind her.

“Z-Zero Two,” continued Ichigo haltingly. “Um…I’m sorry for what I said to you last night. Um…I…I’d like to apologize. It was cruel and uncalled for.”

“Geez,” said Zero Two, and Hiro thought she might be trying not to laugh. “You’re even bossy when you apologize.”

Ichigo blinked in confusion, but Zero Two grinned widely and held out her fist as Hiro had done.

“Apology accepted,” said Zero Two. “Thanks, Ichigo. You did well too.”

Ichigo nodded mutely. It was the first time Zero Two had used any of their names.

* * *

The two of them snuck out of their beds at half past midnight, once the dorm had become completely silent and Goro was sleeping soundly in the other bed across the room from Hiro.

They met on the staircase leading up to the attic room. Hiro lifted his partner off the ground and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She was so light now, even lighter than she had been the first time he held her; she might even be lighter than Ichigo. Zero Two rested her head on his shoulder. The scent of her thick hair overwhelmed his senses.

“You’re so pretty,” Hiro said. “I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been.”

“I belong here,” said Zero Two happily.

He carried her down the two flights of stairs separating the attic and ground floor, and they slipped into the unlit bathroom.

“Darling, what’ll you do if someone sees us in here?” she teased.

“Uh…hmm.” Hiro scratched his chin in contemplation. “Panic?”

Zero Two giggled.

“I don’t think they will, though. We’re not supposed to be out of bed this late, so…”

“We certainly aren’t.”

“Although, come to think of it, Ichigo said she took a bath in the middle of the night before the mission, to help her relax.”

“Maybe she’ll come again,” said Zero Two, grinning mischievously. “Come on, Darling. Hurry up and take it off. You’ve seen me naked plenty of times already.”

Hiro felt his cheeks burning. She was staring expectantly at his chest, which was covered by the nightgown he wore.

“Um…could you just turn around for a second?”

Zero Two covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. One of her fangs was visible in the instant before she turned her back on him. Hiro felt a sudden rush of blood to his head. _No no no, not now_ —he was going to strip naked now, this was the worst possible time for it to…

“Go on,” she said.

Hiro grit his teeth and pulled the nightgown off over his head in one swift motion. The cool air inside the bathroom collected densely around him, and he could feel goosebumps rising on his skin. He threw the gown on top of the stack of folded towels on the rack by the door, then clasped his hands together over his groin.

When Zero Two had barged in on him bathing the day of their second flight, he hadn’t had time to worry about this. But now there was nothing to distract the two of them—now _she_ was going to be looking directly at _him_ , and with her incredible eyesight all of the little imperfections on his shivering scrawny body would be plainly obvious, even in the dim light cast on them by the overhead light fixtures.

And now she _was_ looking directly at him, having turned upon hearing the sound of moving cloth. Her eyes raked his body from toe to hairline, twice over, three times over, four times over. What was it that made the edges of her eyelids bright red? His heart was pounding, and his instincts were telling him to cover himself, so why did it feel so exquisite to be examined by those bright green eyes?

“Ah,” said Zero Two, so softly he could barely hear it. She stepped forward and her fingertips were warm where they contacted his chest; the hairs on the back of his neck stood up at her touch. She was feeling with her fingers the part of his body that had been scarred by the growth on his chest; though the pain was gone, when the growth vanished it left behind it a wide reddish-purple blotch that covered his left pectoral, shoulder, and upper arm; it stretched almost to his waist, and the spidery tendrils at the edge of the mark reached his wrist and the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” she murmured.

“No. It’s just a scar now.”

“A little part of the price you paid to have me as your partner.”

“A keepsake,” said Hiro.

“Mmm,” hummed Zero Two. Without warning she grabbed both his wrists and prized them apart. Hiro let out a yelp of protest, but she was not looking at his uncovered groin; she was staring at the place on his left wrist where the scar terminated.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I definitely didn’t notice. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed anyway, Darling. It’s a natural reaction.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Zero Two’s tone had changed slightly; the teasing edge was gone; there was something cool and soothing in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I’m…” Hiro searched for the words to materialize what was happening inside his head. “I…look weird.”

“What do you mean? You look like a human being to me, Darling.”

“I look weird,” he insisted. “Compared to you, Zero Two, I feel like an uncooked biscuit. You’re so pretty and the muscles in your legs are so defined, and your hair is so smooth and it smells sweet. And I’m just…I don’t know. I’m average. I’m not tall like Goro or handsome like Mitsuru is. You don’t think it’s weird?”

“And I have fangs,” said Zero Two. “And horns, and red around my eyes. And my boobs aren’t as big as Nana’s or even Kokoro’s. Don’t you think I look weird?”

“That’s…that’s different,” mumbled Hiro.

“Is it?”

“I love your horns and your fangs. I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t. They make you look so…”

He was starting to understand. Zero Two was watching the comprehension dawn in his face and the hint of a smile was creeping across her mouth.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

She grinned widely. Her fangs were fully visible. “That’s my Darling.”

“You know, if I could just see you smile like that every day, I wouldn’t need to eat or drink or sleep ever again.”

* * *

Hiro crawled into the bed and she offered him part of the blanket, which he pulled over himself. Zero Two rolled over onto her other side, facing away from him, and looked back at him expectantly, waiting for him to embrace her. He wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled their two warm bodies close together. His hand cupped her breast. It was a beautifully soft sensation. Zero Two sighed contentedly again.

“No mission tomorrow,” she said. “Or…today, I mean. I bet after yesterday, they give us time off.”

“They’d better,” said Hiro. “We saved the entire plantation.”

“We did. We were really something, weren’t we, Darling?”

“We still are.” He kissed the top of her head. His chin bumped her accidentally. She laughed.

“I’m so happy.”

“Oh, that’s right. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm-hmm?” said Zero Two sleepily. “What is it?”

“Is piloting based on sex? Like, piloting a FRANXX?”

“Hmm.” He heard her hand move up to her face, and he somehow knew that she was cupping her chin with her thumb and forefinger the way she always did when she was thinking hard, or possibly just when she wanted to be unbearably cute. “It could be. I never thought of that.”

“I just wondered. Because it feels the same, in a way. But it also feels different.”

She nodded.

“Also, that would explain the rule about piloting,” he mused.

“What rule?”

“That piloting only works between a stamen and a pistil…a boy and a girl. Otherwise the FRANXX doesn’t function. I guess they don’t…fit together properly?”

Zero Two turned back to look at him again. Her expression was baffled. “What are you talking about? FRANXX function perfectly fine with two of the same type of pilot.”

Hiro blinked. “What?”

They both stared at each other for a moment in silence.

“But…that can’t be right,” he said. “It’s the most important rule about piloting. I mean…they drilled it into us, every day during training, and even in Garden before that. And I remember that someone in Squad 13 asked about it once, and they got in trouble. I can’t remember who it was, though. It’s been years…maybe Kokoro? Or Ikuno?”

“It _is_ right,” said Zero Two blankly. “I’ve flown with plenty of partners, Darling, and a lot of them have been pistils. It doesn’t…I don’t know why they’d tell you that. It doesn’t affect piloting at all. Sometimes it makes it easier, even.” She blinked, and her eyes became unfocused, as though she was looking at something far away. “Well, that depends on my mood, I suppose. But still…”

Hiro blinked several times, trying to make sense of what she was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her—there was no reason for Zero Two to lie to him, after all. But for a fundamental rule about piloting to have been _made up_ —and even worse, for someone in Squad 13 to have suffered as a result of it…

“Then why did they lie about it?” he said, more to himself than to her.

Zero Two shook her head and turned back over to resume her comfortable pose. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“That’s stupid, then,” he said flatly. “I’m going to find out why. I’m going to make them apologize to Kokoro or whoever it was that got in trouble.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then I’ll help you,” said his partner softly. “Tomorrow. Right now, it’s bedtime.”

“Thanks, Zero Two.”

She let out a soft noise of acknowledgement, stretched her legs, and her breathing became slow and even. Hiro watched the back of her head for a long time afterward, as the sun rose and the shadows across the floor began to shrink in the new daylight.

 _I meant it,_ he told her, though as they were outside the FRANXX connection, he did not think she would be able to hear him. _Thank you, Zero Two. Thank you for everything._


	7. Mausoleum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> every anime needs a beach episode!

Hiro lay in bed for a long time after waking, though the sun was high in the sky, gleaming down on him and his partner through the old skylight set in the attic ceiling. He’d had many vivid dreams, full of warm colors and clouds and the sensation of flying and the beautiful horned girl who was now curled up in his arms next to him under the thick bedspread. Sometime during the night she had turned over to face him; her long pink hair had fanned out around her head like a flower blossom, and her lips were slightly parted and he could feel her breath on his neck.

He had been afraid, yesterday, that he would not live to see this sunlight. The two of them had clung to each other; he had been frightened and lonely and desperate and his partner had been steeling herself to carry on without him. And now the pain in his chest was gone, and his body felt lighter than air. His senses all seemed a hundredfold more sensitive whenever he was near her. It was the first time that Hiro could remember waking from a pleasant dream to be greeted with an even happier reality.

She moved eventually, perhaps roused by his movements as he awoke. With one hand she rubbed her eyes sleepily and yawned; her mouth half-formed words that she might have been speaking in a dream. Then Zero Two buried her head in his chest. He felt the edges of her horns on his skin.

“Morning,” he said. “You’re really pretty when you’re asleep.”

In response, she reached up and touched his cheek with one hand. “Kiss me.”

They kissed. Her lips were soft and wet. Her taste was even stronger. Perhaps it strengthened every day, or else his senses really were growing more acute. The contours of her chest and stomach and legs against his body were conjuring vivid images of the previous night of watching her flex and convulse and tremble against him, of seeing her horns sparkle in the dim light, of her clutching him with her long slender delicate fingers. For once, he tried—and failed—to drive the image out of his mind, to soothe the anticipation that was building in his abdomen. Zero Two was probably still exhausted from last night—she might even be in pain—and she should by all rights be allowed simply to lie here arm in arm with her Darling and exist together, without him constantly trying to fondle her.

As these calming and rationalizing thoughts were passing through his head, he realized that her legs had been wrapped tightly around his left thigh since he awoke, and that she was so wet that it had leaked through her underwear and onto him.

He reached out to her and traced the outline of her cheekbone with his pointer finger. Feeling his touch, she grinned widely in the way that displayed her fangs and crumpled up her cheeks. A flush was creeping up her face. It couldn’t be legal for anything to be as cute as Zero Two blushing was.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmured.

She let out a little laugh that was like a tinkling bell and buried her head in his chest again. “My whole body has been tingling since you touched me last night, Darling. The second I fell asleep I started to dream that we were having sex again.”

“I did too. I bet it’s because we slept together.” He stroked the back of her neck with one finger, and she shivered. “Your scent and your taste has been all around me, Zero Two. I’ve been able to feel your horns touching me. It makes my head spin.”

“I’m so happy,” she whispered. “I was afraid it was all going to turn out to be a dream, but then I woke up and I was next to you.”

* * *

Killing the Gutenberg had restored some kind of precious temporary balance that Plantation 13 was always sorely lacking. The world outside the windows matched Zero Two’s mood: bright and sunny, sparkling down through the glass panes comprising the dome that housed them. On their way down to breakfast together—Darling had insisted on carrying her, even though their session in the morning had eased her soreness—they stepped through thick beams of sunlight passing through the old windows, leaving little sparkling whirling eddies of dust motes in their wake. Perched on his back, Zero Two felt like a dust mote herself; she could simply relax here and bathe in the beams of Darling’s light and she might be happy for the rest of her life.

Once they’d had breakfast, they went outside, where there was a cool breeze and the shade of one of the old oak trees on the front lawn to greet them. The other stamens, save Goro, were playing the juggling game with the old soccer ball they had, out in the sunlight next to the front deck. The thick one and the annoying one nodded at Darling as the two of them passed; Mitsuru, the pale boy, said nothing and did not acknowledge them. Even in the sunlight, he looked pale and ashen.

They lay down at the base of the tree. Zero Two sipped contentedly from the glass of iced tea she’d brought outside. It had been very slightly too bitter, so she added a splash of honey—just enough so that the drink was now 30% honey by volume. It was very delicious.

Darling closed his eyes as he lay back against the bark. She thought she could hear every inch of his body unknotting and relaxing. Even his usually furrowed brow was clear. She slid sideways, very very gradually, almost stealthily, from her upright sitting position until her head was resting in his lap.

The leaves rustled in the breeze. Fifteen meters away from them, the mousy-haired stamen tripped while trying to return another’s volley and landed flat on his back.

“Zero Two,” said Darling. “Before we met, what did you do when you weren’t on missions?”

“Mmm,” she said, and shifted her head a little to lie more comfortably on him. “Sleep, mostly. Or snack. Or bath.”

“That sounds…peaceful.”

She knew he had wanted to say something like _That’s it?_ , but that he’d suppressed the urge, which was sweet. Coming from another parasite who had lived most of their life in this coddled little Garden of Eden, the question would’ve been insulting, even though Zero Two knew perfectly well that they didn’t know any better. But the same naiveté from Darling was charming—almost refreshing in a way.

“Before I came here, I practically lived on transport ships, you know,” she said. “The only thing I could ever rely on having close by was a bed.”

Darling rested one of his hands on her head, and she felt his fingertips massage her scalp around the base of her horns. Somehow Darling had figured out how sensitive that area was for her, despite never having been told. She could feel little shivering crackles of electricity traveling down her spine.

“I love it when you do that,” she said happily. “It’s so calming. A little harder, please.”

He complied. Zero Two let out a moan of satisfaction.

“Why did you have to move around so much?” he asked after a moment.

“I follow the klaxosaurs,” she said. “Or my squad does, rather. They’re sent to wherever the infestations are the worst.”

“You have a squad?” said Darling, sounding baffled.

“Officially, I did, before I transferred to Squad 13.”

“ _Officially,_ ” he echoed. “But you were alone when I met you for the first time, Zero Two.”

“I’ve always been alone,” she said quietly. “Having a squad didn’t change that.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, after a moment of silence.

“Don’t be, Darling. I’m not alone anymore, after all.” She reached up and touched his wrist with her fingers, as his own continued to rub her head. “And besides, you could say it was the most fitting place for me to be. A squad of monsters hunting monsters.”

“You said something like that yesterday, too, before we piloted together.” He sounded indignant. “You shouldn’t call yourself that. Or you should be prepared to admit that monsters are sexy.”

She laughed. “Darling, that word sounds so funny when you say it.”

“I’m practicing,” he said. “There were so many times last night when I wanted to call you something, but I couldn’t think of the word to match the feeling. It was like _pretty_ , but different. I think _sexy_ is closer.”

“ _Practicing_ ,” repeated Zero Two with a giggle. “Well, use me for practice, then, please.”

“Always.”

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of the sparks running down her spine. The wind through the tree’s foliage was casting little moving circles of warm light over her face, flickering on her closed eyelids. It was so strange and lovely and exciting not to need to suppress the feeling anymore.

“What about you, Darling?” she asked sleepily, drawing her knees up to her chest. “What do you like to do when you aren’t on a mission?”

“What _do_ I like? Hmm…I haven’t thought about it that much. I remember telling you before, how everything we parasites do in Mistelteinn is planned out for us. Bedtimes, mealtimes, training exercises, ceremonies, all of that.” He chuckled softly. “Honestly, I know how lame it sounds, but one thing I always wished I could do was just…get away from everything. Sit outside on my own and listen to the birds sing.”

“That sounds peaceful, too,” said Zero Two.

“There’s a greenhouse on the grounds here. I’ll take you there later, if you like. It has some really beautiful flowers…Kokoro takes care of most of them.”

“Yes, please. I’d love to.”

The tingling moving down Zero Two’s spine was pooling in her belly and forming a little sparkling ball that would not disappear no matter how she tried to ignore it. She cracked open her eyelids and peered across the lawn at the other three boys engaged in their game.

“Hey, Darling.”

“Hmm?”

“They wouldn’t notice if I masturbate, right?”

She saw the blush begin to creep up his neck to his face. He grinned unwillingly and glanced at the group of stamens and shifted slightly in his seat, and she saw a little hint of that steely look in his eyes that had first appeared last night. The extent of pleasure she derived from teasing Darling was a little alarming even to her.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Just don’t be too loud.”

The fingers which were massaging her head slid across the base of her horns, almost lazily. _Ah._ How unimaginably cruel.

Hiro thought briefly of taking a sip of Zero Two’s iced tea, then remembered that about half of it was honey and changed his mind. He could not ever remember being this relaxed, even as a child in Garden. His legs were resting on springy grass, and Zero Two’s head was in his lap with her magnificent horns sparkling in the sunlight; she was panting softly and her cheeks were brilliant red. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for all the klaxosaurs to disappear, for the adults to leave them all alone, and for every day to be like this one.

Hiro rested his free palm on her thigh, over her black leggings. He could feel her shaking very slightly. If only the other three boys would just finish their game and go back inside. If only this spot wasn’t visible from the windows at the front of the house. If only Zero Two wasn’t so god damned cute, or if she didn’t smell quite as nice as she did, it wouldn’t take every ounce of his willpower to lie still here—he had already succumbed to the temptation of touching her leg, out here in broad daylight, and he was starting to feel the—

“Darling,” she said. Zero Two was craning her neck toward him, asking for a kiss. He bent down to oblige her, but instead her tongue darted out and licked his cheek. He squeezed her thigh. Her cheeks crinkled in a grin.

The front entrance of the dorm creaked open, and Ichigo emerged. She was shouting something to the boys who were kicking the ball back and forth, and they were responding; after a moment, Zorome pointed at the tree where Hiro and his partner were lying.

Hiro squeezed Zero Two on the thigh a little harder—he intended it as a warning, but she moaned softly and her head drooped forward so that her pink hair fell over her face.

“Hi,” said Ichigo, barely two meters away from them by now. She was fingering her silver hair clip idly. She was so close that she might even have heard Zero Two, though she made no indication of it. “Are you feeling okay? I feel like I’ve asked you that a lot in the past week.”

“Fantastic,” said Hiro. For once, it was a genuine answer. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiled briefly and glanced down at Zero Two, who for all the world could have been sleeping in his lap. Ichigo did not seem to be interested in sitting down next to them, but it didn’t look like she had come over here just to bid him good morning, either.

“You needed something?” he asked.

“Yeah, actually. Do you still have your swimsuit, or do you need me to ask Nana for a new one?”

“Swimsuit?” Hiro blinked. Zero Two stirred slightly next to him. He could feel her leg trembling. “Don’t tell me we’re doing the microgravity training exercises again? Those were awful.”

Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. “So you lost it?”

“Of course not!” he protested. “I keep it in the dresser in my room. Why?”

“We’re going on a field trip to the ocean.”

“A field trip?” repeated Hiro in disbelief.

“The ocean?” gasped Zero Two, sitting upright suddenly, all traces of idle relaxation gone from her face, though her cheeks had flushed pinker than ever. Ichigo blinked in surprise. “They told me there wasn’t one in this plantation.”

“There isn’t,” said Ichigo, clearly a little confused, though Zero Two’s excitement was so infectious that she was having trouble preventing herself from breaking into a grin too. “I don’t know where we’re going, actually. I just know there’s an ocean there. Nana told me. It’s a reward for how well we did during the kissing operation.”

Zero Two’s eyes were sparkling as Hiro had never seen them before. He felt the slightest twinge of jealousy, but she was so pleased he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Zero Two,” said Ichigo. “You don’t have one, do you?”

“No.”

“I’ll help you pick one out today.”

It was Zero Two’s turn to blink in surprise. “I get to pick one?”

“There are a few choices,” said Ichigo. “They’re all normally for training, but you can pick whichever you like. I’ll just have to let Nana know, since I don’t think we have any in your size.”

The expression radiating off Zero Two’s face was transcendental. Hiro was back in the FRANXX cockpit once again; his partner was glowing like a star, and he was bathing in her warmth.

* * *

Ichigo watched Zero Two peering at the three suits she had laid out on the table, and thought idly how strange it was that the glowing-eyed murderous Zero Two and the curious docile Zero Two who had never seen an ocean before could exist inside the same body.

She was sick of it—sick of the way the two of them looked at and talked about each other. Whatever kind of partnership they had, it wasn’t normal. It was an obsession, and it was frightening in its intensity. Anything to separate the two of them, even for half an hour, as now— _anything_ she could do to mediate them, minor as it may be, was for the good of the squad. What would her partner do when Zero Two was inevitably reassigned? She had seen _that_ version of Hiro, and it wasn’t Hiro; it was flat and dead-eyed and nothing was inside it.

Ichigo also reflected how funny it was that there were only three choices and yet they had been standing here for almost ten minutes. Two choices, really. There were a pair of two-piece suits that were like the pistil undergarment, though made of sturdier material, one in black and one in gray. They had only minor differences in design; both were used for the underwater microgravity training Ichigo remembered doing years ago, right after they’d gotten out of Garden. The program had probably been scrapped at some point—she didn’t know of any FRANXX that could go into outer space, at least.

The third suit was a white one-piece with a red stripe, very nearly the same color as Zero Two’s uniform. Ichigo had no idea what it had ever been used for.

“I want this one,” said Zero Two eventually, indicating the one-piece.

“I’ll let Nana know.” Something about the choice had caught Ichigo off guard. The modesty of the white one-piece didn’t seem to suit Zero Two, somehow. She concealed her confusion, shrugged internally, and began to gather the three suits into a bundle again.

“Which one do you wear?” asked Zero Two.

“Huh? Oh. I mean, we haven’t ever gone swimming before just for fun. It’s always been for training. But all the girls in 13 wear the gray one.”

“I see,” replied the other girl, placing the tip of her forefinger on her chin in contemplation. “So I’ll be the odd one out, then.”

Ichigo restrained herself from looking at Zero Two’s horns and shrugged noncommittally. “I guess. I mean, the trip is a treat from the adults anyway. It’s just going to be us in the squad. Nobody will care that much about what you’re wearing.”

“Darling will.”

“Besides Hiro.”

“You don’t mind your partner seeing you in that?” Zero Two jerked her head at the pile of cloth under Ichigo’s arm.

“Goro doesn’t…” Ichigo blinked several times, trying to regain her train of thought. “It’s just a swimsuit.”

“Mmm,” hummed Zero Two. “If you say so.”

“Look.” Something about her responses was starting to annoy Ichigo. “Drop the smug thing already. I know what you’re used to is…different…but you’re in the same squad as us now. Squad members respect each other. Nobody is going to gawk at you regardless of what you’re wearing. Just pick what you want.”

“But everyone in Squad 13 stares at me,” said Zero Two, her eyes wide. “They have been since the first moment I arrived here. You think I don’t notice? You do it too. I like when Darling looks at me, but I’m sick of all the others doing it.”

“I—” began Ichigo, then closed her mouth awkwardly. It _was_ true that, even now, not all the members of Squad 13 were used to Zero Two’s strange appearance. Sometimes even Ichigo could not stop her gaze from moving compulsively upward to the cherry-red horns on Zero Two’s head—had they gotten bigger?—but it wasn’t like she was doing it on purpose. What was Zero Two even expecting out of them? The whole squad had been living in this plantation surrounded by white walls and grey uniforms and familiar faces their entire lives, and by contrast, the newest pistil was so brightly colored and alien and odd that she was practically a walking alarm siren.

“Thanks for the help, Ichigo,” said Zero Two, smiling, though it was a little bitter, and Ichigo did not see the characteristic white flash of her toothy grin.

“Of course,” said Ichigo automatically. “Nana will have someone deliver us the white one in your size. We’re leaving tomorrow morning, but you should have time to try it on before we go.”

Zero Two nodded and turned toward the door, her pink hair fanning out behind her like a bridal veil.

“It’ll look really good on you,” added Ichigo, after a moment.

* * *

“Hiro, this is Doctor—”

“I know who he is.”

The old man’s jutting metal jaw was distinctive and immediately recognizable, though the boy next to him, a blond-haired youth of indeterminate age, was unfamiliar to Hiro.

“Don’t worry about it, my dear,” said the old doctor, waving her away dismissively with one hand. “Code 016 and I have a bit of a history. Of course, Code 002 does as well.”

He inclined his head at Zero Two. She tensed slightly, but nodded back.

“I see,” said Nana, blinking in surprise. “You’ve met.”

“What are you doing here?” interrupted Zero Two, staring at Frank.

“I’m taking my leave,” said the doctor, peering with his one biological eye not at her, but at Hiro’s face. “I’m heading back to Plantation One. The geezers want some research done. Since I’ve officially found a home for you, Code 002, my work here is done.”

There were at least five seconds of total silence.

“Done?” repeated Zero Two at last. She looked bewildered.

“You’re officially part of Squad 13 now,” explained Nana with a slight smile and nod.

“That also makes Hiro your official partner,” added Hachi. “After the success of the kissing operation, he’s a qualified parasite.”

Zero Two looked between their faces—Nana, the doctor, Hachi, Hiro, back to Nana—in turn. She was utterly uncomprehending.

“Congratulations,” said Nana.

The blond-haired youth, who had not spoken until now, moved forward, and light from the high hangar windows fell over his face. He looked somehow alien; his face was a collection of sharp lines and angles, his cheekbones were prominent, and his eyes were a bright yellowish green that reminded Hiro a little bit of Zero Two.

“So you’re the man of legend,” he said, and his voice was a little high-pitched like Zorome’s. “Nobody’s ever survived 002 for three rides before. Amazing.”

Hiro still could not determine his age. The youth had stepped closer to him than was strictly necessary; his face was uncomfortably close to Hiro’s—another thing that reminded him a little bit of Zero Two, though in this case it was intensely unpleasant.

“Hmm,” said the youth. “You look normal to me.”

His nostrils dilated, and Hiro realized that the blond person was sniffing him. He recoiled.

“I guess that’s the really amazing thing about Squad 13, huh? It’s all hidden beneath the surface.” The blond boy flashed a grin, glancing at Zero Two, who was pointedly not meeting his eyes.

“Who are you?” asked Hiro bluntly. He did not feel it was overstepping the boundaries of politeness to ask, not after the blond youth’s opener.

“Ah, don’t worry about that. We’ll meet again soon, I’m sure.”

The boy smiled at him and retreated to where he had been standing in the doctor’s shadow.

“Is it over?” asked Zero Two, looking at Frank, her voice barely above a whisper. Hiro saw her mouth the word _Why?_ “Doctor, I—”

She broke off as the old man interrupted her, in turn, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“It’s all taken care of, Code 002. Congratulations, and all that.” He glanced at Nana. “That’ll be all I needed, Nana. Just wanted to make sure the handoff goes smoothly.”

“Ah.” Nana blinked again, regaining her bearings. “I’ll show you out, then.”

“Much appreciated,” grunted Frank.

The shapes of the four of them—Nana, Hachi, the doctor, and the blond boy who did not want to tell Hiro his name—vanished into the shade that lay outside the pools of light cast on the hangar floor, and then it was just Hiro and Zero Two alone, standing side by side in the cavernous room.

Zero Two still looked shell-shocked, which surprised him; he had expected her to be elated at the news. He did not kiss her as he had intended to, but placed his palm on her shoulder, and she allowed herself to be wrapped in his tight hug.

“Are you okay, Zero Two?”

“I…”

She faltered.

The morning of the kissing operation might as well have taken place a month ago. The constant whirl of emotions between then and now had left her exhausted; her head and her body were aching; jubilation and fear and sadness were all fighting each other for control inside her head.

She’d sworn to herself, every day—she would never forget that taste—that she would remember the promise, no matter what it took. And she had forgotten it again, like the stupid little girl she had always been—Darling’s sweet smells and his lovely voice and his icy blue eyes had stolen it out of her mind. He had taken over.

It was the doctor’s doing. It had to be. That same profane medical knowledge that had created the abomination that was her—somewhere in the recesses of that fetid old mind lay knowledge of how to manipulate her, just as easily as he did Nana and the adults and the rest of APE. She was a puppet on a string. The despair and anger and frustration was threatening to burst out of her chest. She wanted to cry, to scream, and there was Darling’s cursed touch, there was his strong handsome jaw lightly touching her cheek, the smooth cadence of his breathing, all the things that acted to calm her more effectively than APE’s drugs ever had been able to. Meeting Darling could not have been an accident; it was too perfect.

If she could only rewind time back to before they met. If only she could once again partner with the gray steely-faced stamens who never talked, whose deaths had all begun to blend into each other so that she had long lost count by the time she met Darling. Piloting alone was miserable, but nothing compared to the cruelty of Darling’s unending sweetness when she had known all along that they would eventually need to part.

But Zero Two knew that it would not do to start crying upon receiving the news that Darling had been anticipating for so long, so she closed her eyes and breathed deeply and smiled at him, and pretended that she was only overwhelmed with happiness, and he kissed her gently on the forehead as he always did. They would be permitted to swim in the ocean tomorrow, and sleep under the stars together, and have sex again, and she could show him her new bathing suit that she was proud of, and it was possible that if she prayed fervently enough, the misery bearing down on her would simply vanish out of existence. If she held on just a little longer, maybe everything would be okay; maybe she would be able to forget that, as Darling’s eyes had met hers, he had seen and acknowledged the sadness in her gaze, had accepted her lie knowingly and without questioning it, and that his unwavering trust in her was greater agony than she had ever felt.

* * *

Under the burning sun and a sky so clear it was nearly white, the ten members of Squad 13 stood on beach sand for the first time in any of their lives. The ocean’s surface was reflecting the sunlight, blinding, a massive sapphire with a million faces. Somewhere, Hiro could hear cries that sounded like birds, though he had never heard them before—sea birds, perhaps, a lost species inhabiting a place that he thought no longer existed outside the textbooks from Garden. Even Zorome was lost for words. Along with the rest, he was gaping at the fantastic seascape.

For all Hiro could tell, Zero Two’s entire body might as well be glowing in excitement as she seized his wrist and pulled him unceremoniously toward the water’s edge.

“Let’s swim, Darling!”

“But I was going to help—”

“Don’t worry about it,” shouted Ichigo after him. She and Ikuno had begun to work on unpacking the squad’s beach umbrella and towels. “Go have some fun.”

“Thanks!”

It was not the first time and nor would it be the last that Zero Two pulled him headlong into something unfamiliar, almost lifting him off his feet with her immense strength, eyes sparkling, her mouth slightly open as though she wanted to drink the entire ocean rather than swim in it. Her spectacular hair was trailing behind her in the wind; Ichigo had offered to tie it into a bun for her, so it would be easier not to get it wet, but Zero Two had turned her down.

The water’s edge was icy where Hiro’s feet struck it, and before he realized it he was suddenly knee-deep in salty ocean water with shifting sand between his toes. Zero Two, a few meters ahead of him, stooped and collected a handful of water in her palms, and as he caught up to her he saw that her face was an inch from the surface of it, her brows furrowed and eyes tightly shut.

“It’s beautiful,” she said happily, not moving an inch nor opening her eyes. “It’s so beautiful I can’t stand it. Darling, it smells a little bit like you.”

Hiro grinned, pleased by her reaction. “I’m happy you got to see it.”

Zero Two’s tongue darted out and tasted the water, almost too fast for him to notice. Then she splashed the whole handful over her face.

“It _does_ taste salty,” she mused. Several drops of water had collected in her thick lashes, which were now sticking together; Zero Two was blinking at him, seeming not to have noticed. “I always heard it did.”

Hiro laughed. His partner splashed him fully in the face with ocean water. It was freezing as it trickled down his chest, and he felt goosebumps rising on his skin. “Ow! What the—”

He splashed her back in revenge, and she giggled with delight, leapt bodily out of the water and wrapped all four of her limbs around him. Hiro toppled over. The two of them crashed beneath the surface together. The thunderous sound of plunging underwater was unfamiliar-but-familiar. His eyes were shut tight and his face was stinging with the sudden cold; it took him a second to realize that Zero Two was kissing him.

Hiro kissed her back. His unseeing hands found the back of her neck and her waist, pressing their two bodies tightly together. Zero Two’s taste mingled with the cold and the saltiness of the water. Hiro’s shoulders struck the sandy ocean bottom. They kissed as long as they could, wound together on the ocean floor beneath the waves, until they could no longer hold their breaths. Her legs were wrapped around his waist; in the endless sea of cold, the heat of her body was a beacon. She was grinding against him. She was teasing him purposefully, while they were invisible to the eyes of the others. Thank god nobody _could_ see them, after all.

Two heads broke the surface again. Hiro and Zero Two were sitting in the water facing each other now, wavelets lapping against their shoulders. Zero Two was laughing.

“It’s so lovely,” she said. “Have you ever seen anything as beautiful?”

He did not need to respond. Zero Two knew that his answer was _yes_. She leaned forward to touch their foreheads together, to bump horns in her gentle greeting, but before they touched a real wave crashed over their heads, sending them sprawling underwater. They surfaced again, and Zero Two was giggling uncontrollably, hugging herself with delight.

“Oh, that was for yesterday, by the way,” she told him, blowing away a strand of hair that was hanging over her face down to her chin. He felt her place her palm against his chest underwater. “When Ichigo came over to talk to us, she interrupted me. I didn’t get to finish and then I had to go with her to pick a swimsuit and act like everything was fine.”

“Suck it up,” said Hiro, grinning. “That’s not a fair trade. She couldn’t even tell, could she? Meanwhile I have to hide in the ocean until I calm down.”

Zero Two leaned forward and bumped his forehead with her horns, successfully this time. “How _were_ you planning on hiding that, Darling? I don’t think a swimsuit is going to help. Although I have to say it looks even better on you than I expected it to.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” he admitted. Suddenly it seemed like a glaringly obvious mistake. “Um…”

“Just stick close to me,” said Zero Two. Her eyes crinkled in her characteristic wide grin. “I’ll protect you, Darling.”

They kissed again.

“The color suits you really well,” he said. “I’m glad you found a suit you liked. You’re like a star. You’re almost too bright for me to look at.”

“Mmm,” she said softly. “Thank you, Darling. I like being your star.”

Hiro put his hands on either side of her waist. She was slim and warm.

“It almost feels like I’m wearing nothing when you touch me,” added Zero Two happily. “That’s the other reason I picked it.”

Over on the sand, the girls were playing an awkward but spirited game of volleyball with the beach ball Ichigo had brought. Goro, Zorome, and Futoshi were playing some sort of game in the shallows about thirty feet from where he and Zero Two sat. Mitsuru alone was idle, sitting in the shade of a beach umbrella, unsmiling, staring distantly out at the sea.

“Darling, want to play?” Zero Two was staring avidly at the beach ball the girls were hitting back and forth. “Hmmm. Ichigo really is good at everything.”

“She’s terrible,” said Hiro, half laughing. “She’s just a bit better than the others.”

“Let’s go!” said Zero Two, grabbing him by the wrist, not paying attention. “Oh,” she added, looking back at his head barely poking above the water’s surface. “Flex your thigh muscles hard for about thirty seconds, and it’ll be gone.”

It worked.

“How the hell do you know that?” demanded Hiro.

“Not telling.”

At noon they all shared sandwiches, water from the cooler and iced tea, clustered together in the shade of the two beach umbrellas as the sunny day grew hotter. Afterward, Ikuno buried her nose again in a book that had been occupying her interest since they arrived, Zero Two went out to swim again, and the other girls laid out towels to sunbathe.

Hiro was debating whether to nap or join his partner in the icy waves again, when three pairs of hands seized him unexpectedly by the legs and bundled him away along the coastline, retreating between two jagged outcrops of rock that hid him entirely from view of their little campsite. His abductors cast him unceremoniously to the sand face-first, and when he rose to a sitting position, coughing and blinking grains of sand out of his eyelids, he saw that Goro, Futoshi, and Zorome were standing over him, looking extremely serious.

“Uh,” he said. “You guys need something?”

Futoshi and Goro folded their arms in unison, stony-faced. Zorome stepped forward in front of the other two, and jabbed his forefinger at Hiro’s face, almost hitting him in the forehead.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” he said.

Hiro waited for him to elaborate, but nothing happened.

“Explaining of…?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“God,” said Futoshi. “I don’t even know why we brought you along, Zorome. You’re useless.” He stepped forward and elbowed Zorome out of the way, and the latter let out a indignant yelp. “Sorry about him. What he’s trying to say is that…I mean…”

Futoshi’s brow furrowed momentarily in deep concentration.

“We’re worried about you,” he said finally.

Hiro sighed and nodded. This had been bound to happen sooner or later.

“And Mitsuru has just been…really weird,” continued Futoshi, lowering his voice, though they were far out of earshot of the beach campsite. “I don’t think he’s even spoken your name once since before the mission with Plantation 26. Did something happen?”

“A lot of things have happened.”

Hiro turned in his seat so that he could more easily watch the ocean.

“Like what?” said Futoshi anxiously.

“You guys don’t need to worry about me. This is the happiest I’ve been in a really long time.”

“I know. I know that. I mean, we all see that.” Futoshi ran his fingers through his untidy straight brown hair. “And that’s good. I’m happy for you. But…I mean…”

He trailed off.

“You almost got yourself killed,” said Goro.

“Yeah, almost.”

“Don’t be gung-ho about it,” said the other boy, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You know everyone in Squad 13 was watching. We saw you flatline in Strelizia. Ichigo genuinely thought you were dead. I’ve never seen her like that.” Goro shivered. “And I don’t want to again.”

“You won’t. It was our third flight together, remember? I made it through. I’ll be fine from now on.”

“Do you really believe that?” said Goro quietly.

Hiro shrugged. In reality, he hadn’t spared it a second of thought; the events of the night of the kissing operation had solidified his conviction moreso than anything that had happened since he met Zero Two. They would be together; that was that. His life was a small price to pay for their partnership. “Of course I do.”

“What’ll you do if it happens again?” snapped Zorome.

“That’s a strange question,” said Hiro, looking away from the seascape back to the other boy’s face. “I mean, there aren’t any choices. If I have to give my life to save Zero Two, I’ll do it. Honestly, it never even crossed my mind to do anything else. That’s not how you feel about your partner?”

Zorome grit his teeth in frustration. “That’s different.”

“How’s it different?”

The other boy kicked a pebble across the beach in exasperation; it bounced across the sand and struck the side of one of the rocky outcrops with a loud _clack_.

“You selfish fucking prick,” said Zorome, endeavoring to keep his voice steady. “We all grew up together in Squad 13, didn’t we? We’ve always had each other’s backs. We’ve always taken care of each other. How long have you known Zero Two? Two weeks?”

Hiro stood, dusting sand off the back of his swimsuit.

“Is that what makes her life less valuable than Miku’s?” he asked.

“You can’t save everyone, Hiro.” Zorome’s face was stony. “Stop trying to.”

“Or is it her horns and her weird eyes?”

Zorome punched him. Hiro heard the _crack_ of the knuckles hitting his cheekbone, and the force flung him backwards off his feet; he landed on his back in the shallows with a thud. Air rushed out of his lungs.

Goro and Futoshi both stepped forward to restrain Zorome, but stopped as they realized that the shortest boy was making no effort to attack Hiro further. A few seconds passed in silence, then Zorome turned and stalked away, the fist that had struck Hiro still clenched, and his form disappeared quickly around the rocky outcrop and was gone.

Hiro lay on the sand; icy water lapped his shoulders, his cheek stung sharply, and his jaw had begun to ache.

Futoshi turned hesitantly and departed in the direction Zorome had gone.

Goro squatted in the sand next to Hiro’s head and looked down at him with an impenetrable expression.

“Sorry about him,” he said after a second.

“Don’t apologize for his sake if he’s not sorry.” Hiro raised one hand and touched his cheek gingerly with the tips of his fingers. It was starting to bruise. “I don’t know. Maybe I deserved that.”

Goro chuckled softly and extended his hand to help Hiro up into a sitting position. “You think so?”

“Well, I know why he’s angry. It doesn’t change anything, but I know why.” He looked down at his own chest, where the deep reddish mark sprawled. “I’m gonna be completely purple before long.”

Goro laughed. He relaxed into a sitting position next to Hiro, and they both watched the waves.

“You know, I didn’t say anything at first, because I figured Zorome just needed to get it all out.”

“But?”

“But…”

The blond boy scratched the back of his neck for a long moment, as he always did when he was thinking hard about something.

“Well,” he continued awkwardly. “When…during the mission, when we thought…we thought you were…”

“Dead,” completed Hiro. Goro winced.

“I was there in the cockpit, with Ichigo. Her reaction was…god, it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. The look on her face has been stuck in my head since then. I had a dream about it last night.”

Hiro remembered the discussion he’d had with Naomi inside his head and felt an unpleasant twinge of shame.

“And…I dunno,” said Goro quietly. “Something changed after that. I felt like I wanted to…to protect her. I wanted to not see that look on her face ever again. I wanted to take care of her.” He glanced sideways at Hiro. “It’s different. I mean, you’d want to protect everyone in the squad, wouldn’t you? It’s not like that.”

“Nah. I know.” Hiro nodded. “For us, Squad 13 is family. All of us would protect family. But with your partner, it’s different, isn’t it?”

Goro nodded too, very slowly, still looking out at the waves.

“Anyway,” he said after a moment. “That’s when I started to understand a little bit why you made the choice you did. I can’t hate you for it, even if Zorome can.”

“Thanks, Goro.”

There was a thumping of footfalls on the sand, only a handful of meters from where the two of them sat. Hiro and Goro both looked up to see Futoshi reappear from around the rocks, his hair slightly disheveled and his cheeks pink. It looked like he’d sprinted all the way here.

“What’s up?” said Goro.

“You guys,” panted Futoshi. “Come with me. It’s a…it’s…Mitsuru found the weirdest thing we’ve ever seen.”

* * *

He and Zero Two followed the other members of Squad 13 up from the beachfront into the thick forest that surrounded the bay. Those who had been swimming had towels wrapped around their waists, but removed them one by one as the air grew hotter and more humid the further they climbed.

“Ugh, gross,” complained Miku. “I need to swim again after this. There are spiderwebs everywhere.”

“The forest at home is a lot nicer,” agreed Kokoro. “Is this what a natural forest is like? It’s nasty.”

“You didn’t have to come along if you didn’t want to,” came Mitsuru’s quiet voice from the front of the group. Miku rolled her eyes.

Hiro’s toe caught something hard and he stumbled. Zero Two caught him by the arm before he hit the ground.

“Darling?”

“I’m okay. Thanks, Zero Two.”

There was something strange underfoot, almost totally concealed by dirt and undergrowth. He stooped to examine it. His fingertips met a solid, hard, rough surface—like stone, but too uniform to be natural.

“What’s…?”

“Stairs,” observed Zero Two.

She was right. There was a long staircase hewn directly into the rock under them. Hiro looked up and down the hillside; it stretched both directions as far as he could see, until it disappeared into the brush.

Mitsuru turned to see why the group trailing him had stopped.

“Oh,” he said. “It runs all the way down to the beach. It’s a pathway.”

At the top of the hill, where the stairs stopped and the thickness of the forest grew sparse, Squad 13 saw where the pathway led. There was an irregular cluster of shapes before them, running down either side of a straight pathway, and though every surface was covered in ivy and the stones were crumbling, every member of the squad could recognize it. It was an abandoned city.

Kokoro and Ikuno both gasped loudly at the same time.

“What?” said Ichigo, her voice sounding strained. “There’s…there’s a…” She turned and looked at Goro, her expression baffled, seeking reassurance. “Did…did humans live here?”

“Who knows?” murmured Mitsuru. “But it’s been abandoned for years. I don’t think we’ll find anyone now.”

“What is _that_?” demanded Zorome, his pointer finger stabbing the air in the direction of a handsome two-story building a hundred meters away from them.

“A building?” suggested Futoshi.

“Smartass. You guys see it too, right? It looks like the dorm.”

The inside of the building was cool and silent. The glass in many of the windows was long broken, and their feet left prints in the thick dust coating every surface. Miku and Ikuno, the last two to enter, shivered as they stepped over the doorstep. Hiro had to control his urge to do the same. There was something wrong here.

Zorome, at the head of the group, stepped delicately over a pile of reddish rubble that might have been a shattered flowerpot, then turned back to look at the rest of them.

“I’m not crazy, right?” he asked, and his usually overbearing tone was suddenly subdued. “Why does this place look _exactly_ like our dorm?”

Goro stepped forward too, avoiding the pile, staring at the upper half of the staircase which in the dorm at home led to the second floor; in this building it had collapsed some time ago, leaving jagged wood and splinters behind.

“You’re not,” he said. “There’s no way it’s a coincidence. It’s like they copied this place exactly.”

“Why?” repeated Zorome, a little louder, and his voice reverberated off the ancient peeling walls. “Why would…why is this here?”

“Mistelteinn was built to resemble the outside world as closely as possible,” said Ikuno. “That’s what they told us. Do you think they modeled it after this city?”

“What the hell?” muttered Zorome. “I don’t get any of this. Why not just have us live here, then? Why’d they build a copy of it inside the plantation? Why is it abandoned? Wasn’t everything on the surface destroyed?”

“More importantly,” added Ichigo quietly, “why did they set our beach vacation right next to the city they used to build Mistelteinn?”

There was a very long silence, during which Miku and Kokoro held tightly onto each other. Then Zorome turned abruptly and strode toward the door at the other end of the hall, the one which at home led to the living room with the large comfortable couches.

“What are you doing?” snapped Mitsuru.

“The library,” said Zorome impatiently. “If it’s the exact same building, the library’s on this side.”

Unlike the entry hall, the library was almost completely intact, though so thick with dust and cobwebs that Miku was hesitant to even move near the bookshelves. Goro, Kokoro and Mitsuru surveyed the rows of leather-bound spines closely, but only Kokoro pulled anything from the shelves, and after a few minutes the three retired to the center of the room where the others waited.

“Find anything?” said Futoshi to Zorome, who had somehow collected a large dust bunny on the tip of his nose and not noticed it yet.

“Eh,” grunted the other. “It’s boring. Just like the one at home. Tons of textbooks, an encyclopedia set. Some of it could be fiction novels probably, but it’s not like I wanna carry the whole thing back to the beach.”

“What were you looking for?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” said Zorome again, running both hands irritably through his hair. “I want to know why this thing is here and why it looks like the dorm. It’s too bad the staircase is busted, or else we could check the bedrooms.”

“Zero Two,” said Hiro quietly.

“Hi, Darling.”

“Have you ever seen a place like this?”

“Nope,” she said serenely. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was staring up at the set of tall bookshelves with polite interest. “Except Mistelteinn, of course.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t surprised, though some part of him had hoped that Zero Two’s prodigious knowledge of topics that were mysteries to him would also stretch to this bizarre abandoned clone of their dormitory.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she said.

“Yeah…in a way.”

“You think we could climb it?” asked Zorome at the front of the group to nobody in particular.

“Sounds like a really good way to get tetanus,” said Goro drily. “Be my guest, if you want. Kokoro, you found something, didn’t you?”

Kokoro was hugging a little hardback book to her chest, and as Goro spoke her name her grip tightened slightly as though she was afraid someone was going to try to take it from her.

“I’ll show everyone later,” she said softly.

Goro shrugged. “Works for me. Everyone all done exploring? Shall we leave then? This place is giving me the creeps.”

Zorome wanted to explore the city more, but the day was growing hotter and hotter and the others were talking longingly of having another refreshing dip in the cold ocean water. When Futoshi pointed out they could go back with a flashlight to explore it during nighttime, after it had cooled down, Zorome begrudgingly agreed to accompany the squad back down the ancient crumbling stairs toward where they had made camp.

“Darling,” said Zero Two suddenly, startling him out of a reverie. “How’d you hurt yourself?”

Her eyes were fixed on the patch on his cheek where Zorome had hit him; he couldn’t see it, but the bruise had surely fully blossomed by now. A few meters in front of them, where Zorome and Futoshi stood shoulder to shoulder discussing their findings in the city, Hiro saw the shorter boy’s shoulders and neck stiffen slightly. He must have heard her.

“Oh, this?” Hiro felt the spot gingerly. It really _was_ painful. “I dove underwater and I hit it on a rock or something. Don’t let anyone tell you I’m smart.” He chuckled, to help cover up the lie.

“Ooh,” she said sympathetically. “Ice it when we get back, to help the swelling. You’re lucky you didn’t get cut.”

She waited a few seconds, and when nobody else in the squad was looking back at them, her head darted toward him in a catlike movement, and she kissed his cheek so gently that he could barely feel it. A little frisson ran down his spine.

“Thanks,” he mouthed.

Zero Two kissed him on the cheek again.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t resist.”

The sun was setting by the time they reached the campsite again. Hiro helped Futoshi and Ikuno set up the grill and unpack the second cooler they’d brought, which contained skewered meat and vegetables for dinner. Then, while Ikuno and Ichigo heated the grill and started cooking—he’d offered to help but Ichigo shooed him away—he retired to the warm sandy beach, where Zero Two was watching the other girls restart their game of volleyball.

“Hi, Darling,” she said again, as he sat down next to her.

“Hi, Zero Two.”

They watched Miku and Kokoro bat the ball back and forth several times without dropping it—the first time they’d accomplished such a thing—and high-five in excitement.

“Going to ask if you can play with them?” said Hiro.

“Mmm,” said Zero Two softly. “Maybe later.”

“They look like they’re having fun.”

“Yeah.” She shifted a little in her seat. “I’m going to go swim again.”

* * *

The sunset was fading as they approached the campsite again, though the delicious smell of grilled meat was just as good of a beacon. The squad had even managed to build a campfire, and everyone was sitting around it, resting variously on logs or rocks that they’d arranged in a circle around the firepit. Goro raised his arm in greeting as he noticed them return.

“Took you long enough,” he said, slightly muffled through half a mouthful of skewered beef and bell peppers. “Everything okay?”

“All good. Thanks.” Hiro took his seat cross-legged in the sand next to Goro and accepted a steaming skewer from Ichigo. Zero Two sat next to him. “Sorry I wasn’t here to help with dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re on vacation.” Goro offered Zero Two the untouched skewer in his left hand, and she took it, looking surprised but grateful. “You two deserve it more than anyone. You saved our lives.”

Hiro felt heat rising in his face. He took a bite of food to hide it and, possibly instinctively, reached out to scratch the top of Zero Two’s head behind where her horns jutted out. She closed her eyes and hummed with approval.

“We couldn’t have done it without you guys. The only reason I’m here now is because you were here to support me and Zero Two.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” said Goro, grinning. “But nobody here could’ve done what you and Zero Two did in Strelizia. So suck it up and accept my gratitude.”

“Goro’s right,” said Ichigo quietly. “You _did_ save us.”

All the other parasites circling the fire were engaged in their own conversations, with the exception of Mitsuru, who was sitting silently on a log across the pit from them. Reflected flames were flickering in his eyes, so that Hiro couldn’t tell if he was staring at them or only watching the campfire.

“Fair enough. Go us, huh? We did great.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” said Zero Two sleepily, between munches. She teetered and tipped over; she landed on her side in the sand and her head was suddenly resting in Hiro’s lap. “Darling really has some amazing natural talent.”

Hiro hadn’t thought she was serious about her threat.

“Mmm,” said Ichigo, almost inaudibly. Mitsuru shifted in his seat.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” added Goro. “Ikuno made floats. You have a couple left, right?”

“Only one,” said Ikuno distinctly from a few seats away, distracted from her conversation with Miku. “I made one for everyone, but I think Futoshi had two.”

“Greedy bastard,” said Goro.

“And every last drop was delicious,” chimed in Futoshi from the opposite side of the fire.

“Yeah, I bet.”

The remaining float was passed hand to hand through the circle until it reached Hiro’s seat on the sand. He took it gratefully. He was shocked that Nana had allowed them to pack root beer and ice cream along with the other food—they really were going all-out with this vacation thing.

“What’s that?” came Zero Two’s voice from his lap.

“A float? It’s root beer and ice cream mixed together. It’s like a dessert drink.”

“A classic human delicacy,” added Goro. “I bet people who lived on the surface did this kind of thing all the time.”

“Zero Two, you want to try it? It’s sweet.”

She sat up and took the offered glass from him, put it to her lips and took a huge gulp.

“You’re gonna get brain freeze doing that,” said Hiro.

Her eyes flicked to his face as she drank; she stared at him for a second, and then without warning she doubled over and spluttered out a fine haze of root beer onto the sand. Hiro was terrified for a second that she’d started choking, but then he realized that Zero Two was laughing at him.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to—Darling, I…I just don’t think a mustache is a good look for you.”

“Eh?”

“Here,” said Goro, tossing Hiro a small towel, which hit his shoulder as he failed to catch it. “Wipe that off.”

Hiro touched his own upper lip, which was still cold from contact with the float. The drink had left a layer of foam behind. He’d completely forgotten that frothy drinks would do that. Tears were leaking from the corners of Zero Two’s eyes as she struggled to contain her mirth.

“Oh!” she said. “No, no, I’ll get it for you.”

Hiro blinked.

It was a quick motion, like the kisses she had stolen on the trail, but this time it was in full view of everyone. Zero Two’s hand was on the back of his neck; there was a look of intense concentration on her face as her head moved toward his own. It happened in a millisecond. In one smooth motion she kissed him and her tongue snatched the foam off his upper lip. The thin invisible barrier between them, the silent acknowledgement that neither of them would overtly show affection around the others, in case they drew looks and awkward questions—she had bypassed it for a split second. Her closeness had brought with it her sharp scent that scoured his throat like mint, and the sharp tips of her fangs brushing against his face. He was utterly unprepared. Zero Two was serious after all. And yet it had still been so fast that the rest of the squad might not have realized what had happened…

Mitsuru shifted in his seat again.

Ichigo and Goro were both pointedly not looking at either of them. Ikuno had also ceased her conversation with the other girls, and though she was not looking at them either, her shoulders had turned a little bit away from them, as though Zero Two’s sudden act had disgusted her.

“What?” said Zero Two innocently, as though she had only just picked up on the awkward silence. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not strange to help your partner clean up.”

Ichigo said nothing. The silence stretched on. Hiro shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Yeah,” said Goro suddenly, with an abrupt laugh. He picked the final piece of mushroom off his skewer with his teeth and swallowed it in two bites. “Maybe it isn’t, huh? Maybe Squad 13 should start doing that.”

“Let’s not,” said Ichigo.

“Who knows? Maybe it’ll promote unity and team spirit. Oh, and speaking of team spirit.”

Goro inclined his head at his partner, who seemed to remember something and shook herself a little, as if she was trying to dispel a fog around her head. Ichigo reached over and took the nearly-empty glass from where Goro had set it down, then cleared her throat loudly. The rest of the circle stopped their conversations and turned to look at her.

“Everyone,” started Ichigo, sounding a little subdued. “If I could have a second. I’d like to propose a toast.”

“A toast?” hissed Zorome in a whisper that was nonetheless clearly audible. “What the hell is—”

“It’s a traditional human custom,” continued Ichigo. Zorome cut off. “They used it to congratulate someone or to pay tribute.”

“So what are we—”

“Shut _up_!” snapped Miku, also under her breath, elbowing her partner hard in the ribs. He let out a grunt of pain. “Let her talk, idiot.”

“A toast,” repeated Ichigo. “To Squad 13. I’m proud of each and every one of you. We protected the plantations and Papa and the adults, without losing a single life. I couldn’t ask for a better squad to lead.”

Futoshi’s face lit up at her words. Ichigo nodded at him.

“And—” she swallowed. “To Hiro and Zero Two, Squad 13’s newest pair. Without you, none of us would be able to sit around this fire tonight. We—”

Ichigo broke off suddenly, her mouth still half-open. The sunset was long gone; the night sky was black as ink, and the beach around them was deep gray. In the light of the flames, Hiro could see that Mitsuru was standing suddenly; his arms were crossed over his chest and a vein was trembling in his temple.

“Are we supposed to stand too?” whispered Zorome.

“Ichigo,” said Mitsuru, his tone cool.

“This isn’t the time, Mitsuru,” she said softly.

“This is the perfect time. I told you my concerns yesterday. I didn’t realize you were going to ignore them completely.”

Goro was resting his hands on the log on which he sat, and his posture was alert, as though he was readying himself to spring to his feet.

“How long are you planning on pretending that everything is okay?” shouted Mitsuru. “Problems don’t go away because you ignore them, Ichigo. You’re inviting _her_ into our inner circle. You know what she did. You know _exactly_ what she did.”

“Don’t speak to Ichigo like that.” Goro’s voice was icy. His partner placed her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Goro.”

“It is _not_ fine!” shrieked Mitsuru.

“My partner has a name, you know.”

Hiro stood; he stepped forward into the inner circle of firelight. The flames were dancing in Mitsuru’s eyes. The pale boy’s decorum was slipping. He looked furious. “Why won’t you use her name, Mitsuru? You use everyone else’s names. Her name is Zero Two. Why don’t you use her name?”

“I will not,” breathed Mitsuru. His chest was heaving. “ _You_ gave us names, Hiro. Names are for the members of Squad 13. I will not accept _her_ into Squad 13. Not after what she’s done.”

“How dare you?” whispered Kokoro.

“And what has she done?”

Mitsuru’s hand jumped instinctively to the deep shiny scar on his cheek.

“Y-you’ve all gone crazy, haven’t you?”

“Mitsuru,” interrupted Zorome. “Dude, you’re not making any sense. What the hell are you talking about? You’re this angry that she cut your face? You’re gonna make a scene? What’s wrong with you?”

“Cut my—?”

Mitsuru’s eyes were bulging. His fingertips had not moved from the scar. He stared around the circle, from one uncomprehending face to the next, to Ichigo’s doll-like face with her set jaw, to Hiro’s furious expression, to Zero Two, sitting in the shadows at the edge of the firelight, staring distantly into space.

“I see,” he murmured. “I see. So…I understand now. Nana didn’t tell you?”

“Tell us what, Mitsuru?” said Ichigo quietly.

The corner of Mitsuru’s mouth twitched. He might have been trying not to laugh.

“I’m dying,” he said. “Because I piloted with _her_. She poisoned me. Nana didn’t tell you?”

Utter silence filled the circle, except for the soft crackling of the flames. Zero Two blinked slowly.

“You’re what?” said Zorome blankly.

“Klaxosaur blood contains a mutagen,” said Mitsuru. “I looked it up afterwards, in one of the medical encyclopedias. It’s the reason Hiro has that scar on his chest. It’s the reason she kills every one of her partners.”

He blinked several times. Even in the reddish glow of the flames, he looked pale.

“I thought you all knew,” he murmured. “I didn’t realize Nana didn’t even bother telling you. It makes sense now.” The corner of his mouth twitched again, twice. “Yeah. As long as Hiro’s happy, what happens to me doesn’t really matter, does it?” He laughed hoarsely. “If it’s what he wants, you’re all willing to accept one of the very monsters we’re fighting into the squad, huh? You make me sick.”

“Take it back.”

“What?”

“Apologize for calling her a monster.”

Hiro was clenching and unclenching his fists. He kept his breathing deep and even. The last time he’d felt this way, when the APE guards were trying to take Zero Two away from him, he’d hurt people—if APE counted as people. That wouldn’t do when the squad was around him, no matter what Mitsuru said about Zero Two.

Mitsuru’s face contorted suddenly into an ugly expression. The vein in his temple pulsed. He took a jerky step forward and kicked the base of the campfire with all his might. The logs at the bottom exploded into sparks; Miku and Kokoro both shrieked in alarm, and Zorome swore loudly; Goro grabbed Ichigo around the upper arm and shoved her out of the way; Hiro, who was directly in the path of Mitsuru’s kick, only had time to blink before a plume of ash and sparks and smoldering fragments of wood struck him in the face.

It was white-hot where the fragments touched him, like and yet totally unlike the sensation of Zero Two’s horns on his skin. The pain was immediate and overwhelming; smoke filled his nostrils and he coughed; he had managed to shut his eyes just in time, but his left eye was throbbing where an ember had struck his eyelid. Instinctively he covered his face with his hands, but he could feel that the damage to his face and neck and upper chest had already been done.

He heard shouting and a scuffling sound; the other two boys had probably restrained Mitsuru by the arms.

Zero Two let out a snarl like a wild animal. Hiro heard her bound to her feet, heard the other girls let out another terrified squeak, but she was so close to him that he could feel her brush past him as she made for Mitsuru, and he grabbed onto her upper arm with one hand and did not let go.

“Stop, Zero Two. Don’t touch him.”

“I’m going to hurt him, Darling.” Her voice was icy calm.

“No you aren’t.” She tried to pull away from him, but he redoubled his grip. “Can someone find the first aid kit?”

“R-right,” stammered Ichigo, and he heard her scramble to her feet as well. “Hang on.” Her footsteps in the sand receded quickly into the distance.

“What’s wrong?” Mitsuru asked, his voice on a knife’s edge between shouting and laughing. “She’s done it once already, and nobody cares. Why are you stopping her?”

“She didn’t lay a finger on you. She told me.”

“Open your eyes!” shouted Mitsuru. “Nobody believes her except for you, Hiro! Stop lying to protect her! Everyone knows what really happened, and the adults don’t care!”

“I didn’t touch him.” Zero Two’s voice was even. She had done a much better of controlling herself than Hiro had. “Check the medical records, if you want. Everyone knows how the FRANXX works. A pistil can’t move their physical body at all while piloting. He did it to himself.”

“What?” gasped Kokoro. “No, he couldn’t have.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

An image of the scarred face of her old partner, the man Hiro had briefly met by the lakeside, flashed into his mind again. The soft pads of footfalls on sand announced Ichigo’s return; Hiro heard the clatter of her setting down the first-aid kit and the click of the latch on the lid disengaging. He felt her hand on his forearm.

“Lay down,” Ichigo ordered. “This is going to sting a little.”

It did. As she swabbed and applied ointment to his burns, the silence settled around them again, and the crackling of the fire resumed.

“Let go of Mitsuru,” said Ichigo eventually. Hiro assumed she was talking to the other boys.

“But what if he—?” asked Zorome urgently.

“It’s fine. He won’t.”

Hiro heard a rustling of clothing and bodies.

“You can sit up now,” she added, directed at him. “Your eye is okay—the left one, I mean. You should keep it closed until the burn starts to heal, though. The other one is fine.”

He sat up and opened his right eye gingerly and squinted as the firelight blazed in his vision. Goro and the girls, save Ichigo, had vanished; they had probably gone to fetch the pillows and bedrolls. Futoshi and Zorome were sitting on either side of Mitsuru, looking wary, but Hiro could see that Mitsuru was now utterly spent: he was slumped in the seat he had previously occupied, shoulders sagging, and his eyes were blank. Zero Two was crouched near Hiro’s feet, and her left hand was drawing circles compulsively in the sand beneath her as she stared unblinking at Mitsuru. He reached down and gently rubbed the back of her neck, and her shoulders relaxed by a tiny amount.

“What about Ikuno?” he said.

“Ikuno?” said Mitsuru slowly, as though he’d never heard the name before. “What about her?”

“Can it—can the mutagen be transmitted between human pilots?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” repeated Hiro. “But you flew with her anyway.”

Mitsuru’s gaze moved from the fire back to Hiro’s face. The vein in his temple had started pulsing again.

“You’re insane,” he said quietly. “You’re pointing your finger at me instead of _that_ girl? She knew _exactly_ what would happen if we shared a cockpit, and she decided to anyway.”

“Decided what?” said Hiro in a voice of icy calm. “I don’t remember her asking you for anything.”

Mitsuru shook his head slowly, his expression one of utter disbelief.

Ichigo stood and collected the first-aid kit box by the handle.

“Ichigo,” said Mitsuru, not taking his eyes off Hiro. “Please, make something here make sense.”

“No luck, Mitsuru,” she said softly. “I checked the medical records. Zero Two is right.”

“No,” he mumbled. “That can’t be true.”

“For the safety and well-being of Squad 13,” Ichigo added, her voice growing still softer, “I _will_ have to report that you attacked a squadmate with intent to cause injury. I’ll do what I can, but…”

She left the sentence unfinished, and turned and disappeared outside the little circle of firelight.


	8. Boys x Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay on this chapter! i've really been going through it IRL.
> 
> there's a ton of filler from episode 7-12 that i really didn't feel like preserving, so i've collapsed it and skipped some of the dumber stuff.
> 
> originally i wanted dreamers just to be a much cozier and more sensible retcon of the core romance plot of DitF, but i've really started to fall in love with these characters.

“Those burns. Code 015 told me that Code 326 attacked you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How exactly…?”

“He kicked the campfire in my face.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No. We were all sitting around the fire. I was next to Goro, Ichigo, and Zero Two, but they all got out of the way in time. I was the only person that was standing close to him.”

“I see.”

“He was barefoot. How bad were his burns?”

Pen tip scratched paper.

“Do you have any idea what provoked him?”

Hiro noted his question being ignored. “We had an argument.”

“About anything in particular?”

“Yeah. He told me piloting with Zero Two infected him with something, and he’s going to die soon.”

For a long moment, the whirring desk fan was the only sound audible in the room.

Doctor Frank laid his pen down on the table next to the notepad with a little clatter, then rested both his hands on the desk next to it, the artificial one on top of the other.

“Is it true?” said Hiro.

“What would you do if it was?” said Doctor Frank, looking impassively across the table at him.

“I’d…I’m not sure.”

“You two were close, weren’t you?”

Hiro shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. “I…I feel sorry for Ikuno. She hasn’t done anything wrong and she got caught in this mess. And I’m afraid the squad might hate Zero Two because of this. I don’t want them to make me choose between her and them.”

“And Code 326?”

“I don’t care.”

“Really?” Frank blinked twice; it was the most emotion Hiro had ever seen him show. “Even though you grew up together? You’ve been squadmates since you were children. That’s one of the closest bonds a parasite can have.”

Hiro shrugged. “Ikuno is afraid of him. I don’t trust people whose partner is afraid of them. After Zero Two told me what it was like to pilot with him, I understood. Whatever else happens, he’s dead to me.”

Pen tip scratched paper.

“The first time you brought me here, there was a thing growing on my chest,” said Hiro. “Does that happen to all her partners?”

“Yes,” said the doctor, not looking up from his notes.

_After all that, you’re just going to say “yes?”_

“And Mitsuru has it too?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t it kill me?”

Frank looked back at him with his single cold human eye. “Blind luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your immune system is capable of tolerating the mutagen without causing lasting damage. Well, I should say _fatal_ damage.”

Hiro briefly thought of the ugly red mark across his chest.

“It’s extraordinarily rare,” said Frank. “When we first discovered the klaxosaurs and sequenced their genome, I theorized a genetic factor like this, but we still lack the ability to synthesize it artificially. In fact, you’re the only recorded case.”

“Zero Two’s, um…the mutagen? It transfers by piloting, right? Is that the only way?”

“As far as we know, yes. Your squad won’t be in danger simply by being near her.”

The little oscillating desk fan stopped, with a soft click and a rattle, and began to turn the other way. Hiro braced himself to ask the question whose answer he had been dreading since he entered this room.

“Can it be transmitted between people other than Zero Two?”

“Indeed.”

A little frisson of horror ran from the base of Hiro’s skull all the way down his spine.

“So…Ikuno and Ichigo are…?”

“Ichigo? You mean Code 015? Ah, you’re referring to the failed test flight. No, you two weren’t able to make total contact, so the probability that she’s contaminated is effectively zero. We could test her, if she asks, but I doubt it’s worth the effort.”

_Contaminated._

“What about Ikuno?”

“Yes, I expect her case to be fatal.”

The desk fan whirred. The doctor’s pen scratched the surface of his notepad. He had filled an entire page and a half with notes in tiny illegible writing. Hiro felt oddly lightheaded; blood was pounding in his ears. Surely the doctor hadn’t just said that sentence—not in the light, casual tone he used when discussing Hiro and Zero Two, as though it were not even a minor inconvenience but merely a passing oddity that had caught his interest.

“Isn’t…isn’t there anything I can do to help?” he said softly.

“Strange,” said Frank, with a shade of amusement. “You and Code 193 never struck me as being particularly close.”

“And that makes it strange that I don’t want her to die for no reason?”

The old doctor made a tiny movement that was like a suggestion of a shrug.

“What if I pilot with her? Can I ‘infect’ her with my…my adaptive factor? Does it work the same way as Zero Two’s blood?”

Frank actually chuckled. “I admire the sentiment, but how do you expect to explain that to your partner?”

Hiro shook his head angrily. “I could—I could tell her. She would understand. If it’s about something like this, she’d understand. She trusts me. I only want to fly with Zero Two, but if I can save someone’s life doing it, I will.”

“It isn’t that simple, unfortunately.” The doctor sounded a little bored.

“Wait.” Hiro gripped the edge of the desk with both hands, staring down at the notepad which Frank was continuing to write on, though nothing written there was legible to him. “It’s not that simple, but it’s possible? There’s something I can do?”

“In the case of an infected parasite, it’s not possible to purge the infection completely—even in your case, which is unique. The infection itself causes generalized cell damage to the host, which progressively worsens until death. Your adaptive factor stimulates cell repair. Rather than a cure, it’s a countermeasure which is active indefinitely. It functions a bit like your immune system.”

“Okay.”

“Theoretically, if you’d piloted with 196 before you met 002, you’d have been able to transfer this mutation on to her. Essentially, you’d be acting as a vaccine. Unfortunately, now that you’re contaminated with 002’s blood, that’s no longer possible.”

“I don’t understand,” said Hiro blankly. “So…it’s too late?”

“Not exactly,” said Frank. “In order to simulate what your own body does—to repeatedly administer the ‘antidote’, in other words—a parasite bearing the adaptive factor naturally, either congenitally or via a clean transmission, would have to pilot with 196 regularly for the rest of her life.”

* * *

Ichigo reached out to rap on the attic bedroom door, then faltered as though the old wood was going to burn her knuckles by contact.

 _You’re squad leader,_ she said to herself. _Get a grip. This is your job._

As far as she could tell, it was totally silent inside the room. Maybe Zero Two was still asleep. She hoped. Ichigo knocked.

“Who is it?” The response was immediate. _Damn it._

“Ichigo. Can I—”

“Come in.”

The hinges creaked as she entered. Zero Two was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bedspread, silent and still as a statue. She was staring up at the sun through the old cracked skylight, and her sheet of soft pink hair was coiled carelessly on the bed behind her.

“Did you need something?” said Zero Two without moving from her pose.

“No, I just wanted to tell you lunch is ready.”

“Mmm.”

“Are you going to eat?”

“Is Darling back yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Mmm,” said Zero Two again, very softly. “I’ll wait.”

Admittedly, she hadn’t expected any other reply. Zero Two and Hiro were joined at the hip, after all. Ichigo turned to leave. There was the rush of a gentle breeze at the window, and with it a faintly sweet flowery smell.

“Did you need something?” repeated Zero Two after a moment.

Ichigo, hesitating in the doorway, bit her lip in frustration. She stopped herself from turning back to look at Zero Two; she didn’t want to have to look back at that soft waterfall of pink hair, and the horned girl in a white robe bathed in a circle of golden light, for any longer than she absolutely had to.

But…

“Stay or leave, but you’re letting the cold in.”

It was barely a degree colder in the hallway than in the room.

Ichigo relented. “Fine.”

She pulled the door closed and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Zero Two stirred for the first time as she weighed down the corner of the mattress, and opened her eyes, so that her turquoise irises—intentionally or not—sparkled in the light from above. She watched Ichigo wordlessly for a moment.

“You know,” she said finally, when Ichigo made no indication of beginning to speak, “I think I was right about you. You make a good squad leader after all.”

Zero Two smiled proudly to herself.

“Okay,” said Ichigo awkwardly. “Um…”

“You want to ask me something, don’t you?”

“Well…first, I wanted to apologize.” _Might as well. All you ever do is apologize._

“For?”

“What I said when we went to pick swimsuits together, about how nobody is going to stare at you. It was rude. I knew what you really meant, and I ignored it, because I wanted to believe in my squad. So…I’m sorry.”

Zero Two’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair.

“Thanks, Ichigo,” she said after a moment of silence, and smiled again. “That means a lot, actually.”

 _Ichigo._ Zero Two did not call anyone else in the squad by their nickname—not even Hiro. Ichigo wondered how she’d decided on the exception.

“Yeah. Of course,” she mumbled. “Um…”

“You can go ahead and ask,” said Zero Two. “I don’t bite.” She grinned widely, exposing her fangs. Ichigo flushed.

“I just…” She clenched her fist resolutely. Enough beating around the bush. “Um…h-how did you and Hiro…how did you decide to be his partner?”

The other girl’s eyes lit up at the sound of the word _Hiro_.

“It’s where I belong,” she said happily at once, gazing back up at the skylight. “Being with Darling gives me butterflies in my stomach. He’s so gentle and lovely and strong. I don’t think I can describe it properly.”

“Oh,” said Ichigo quietly. “I see.”

“Not the answer you were hoping for?”

“What would you do if Hiro had chosen someone else?”

The change in Zero Two’s demeanor was immediate and unsettling, so much that for a moment Ichigo thought a cloud had passed over the skylight.

“That isn’t a question worth asking.”

* * *

“That’s the only way to save her?”

“As far as we know, yes.”

Though the little office was moderately warm, Hiro’s face and fingertips felt icy.

“I wish Mitsuru had died the first time he flew with Zero Two,” he said.

“Interesting,” said Frank.

“Why are you telling me everything?” said Hiro quietly. “You and the adults lie to us every moment of the day. What do you get out of telling me the truth about this?”

The doctor chuckled. “Don’t be dramatic. APE and even the council have a strict internal policy not to explicitly lie to parasites. It tends to sabotage their morale.”

“Lying by omission is still lying,” said Hiro. “I still don’t understand. You could have hidden everything from us, couldn’t you? That would have made this so much easier. What good does it do to tell me that I’m the only person that can save Ikuno’s life? And that I have to leave Zero Two to do it? I think the two of us have been through enough already. What’s the point?”

“The only person?” repeated Frank.

“What?” asked Hiro blankly. “You just…you just explained it to me. Why are you saying it like that, _the only person_? Didn’t you say my case was unique?”

The doctor squinted intensely at his face for a moment, notes forgotten.

“I’ll never understand those geezers on the council,” he said presently. “Or even Nana. No, Code 016, you seem to have misunderstood my explanation, though I don’t blame you. As I told you, the only possible candidates to keep 196 alive are those who carry the adaptive factor, either congenitally or by _receiving it_.”

Hiro’s head was spinning. The old man was messing with him. “But Zero Two can’t do it. The mutagen is from her in the first place.”

“Not Zero Two.”

“I didn’t even make full contact with Ichigo, and that was after I had met Zero Two anyway.”

“You’re getting there.”

Hiro blinked several times, staring down at his own open palms. Nothing Doctor Frank said was making sense. So the correct answer was…

“Sir, is Naomi still alive?”

* * *

“Sorry,” said Ichigo under her breath. “I just…what happened at the beach made me think about a lot of things.”

Zero Two’s demeanor cleared at once, like someone had flipped a light switch inside her head.

“Everyone’s looking to me for answers,” continued Ichigo. She couldn’t stop herself. Everything had been a mess since Mitsuru attacked Hiro last night. It had left a black mark on what was meant to be a cozy vacation for all of them. There was something an inch away from slipping out of her grasp, and she was still desperately holding onto it. “But I can’t help them at all. I’m confused too. I don’t understand why Mitsuru did that, and I’m scared that I don’t understand. Parasites attacking each other just doesn’t happen.”

Somehow it was easier to talk to Zero Two about this than anyone else. Maybe it was just that she didn’t look up to Ichigo the way that the others did. Hiro, too, might have been comforting to talk to—if he were here—but in this state, if she talked to him alone, it would be too easy to let something slip…

“Oh, that’s easy. He’s angry and jealous.” Zero Two’s eyes were wide and earnest. “I’ve worked with a lot of squads, you know, and 13 isn’t like any of them, in a lot of ways.”

“Jealous?” repeated Ichigo. “Of Hiro?”

“Of me,” said Zero Two, grinning. “He wants to fly with Darling. He _craves_ it. It’s the only thing he cares about. I felt it when he piloted with me. Too bad for him,” she added contentedly. “Jealousy is ugly.”

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably again. “That’s what Ikuno had to sit through every day?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “I would’ve been happy to solve the problem myself, if Darling hadn’t stopped me. I hope she feels better now that he’s gone.”

“I don’t know if it matters. Without a partner, she doesn’t have any value to the adults, so…” Ichigo rubbed her temples. “It’s like what happened to Naomi and Hiro.”

Zero Two shrugged. “Well, Squad 13 is the doctor’s special experiment. Maybe he’ll let her stay, just because.”

“I’d like to believe that,” admitted Ichigo. “But hoping and wishing has never gotten me very far.”

* * *

The moment he arrived in Mistelteinn, Hiro burst through the front door and took the stairs three at a time. Though he did not stop to investigate, there was some kind of disturbance going on in the entry hall, with two groups of parasites standing on either side of a line drawn on the floor by a strip of white masking tape, apparently arguing about something. Hiro’s head was spinning. As long as Zero Two was beside him, he’d be able to make sense of this. The discussion with the old doctor had raised a hundred more questions than it had answered.

For some reason, he had a sinking feeling the attic bedroom would be abandoned when he reached it. He had never been happier to be wrong; the moment he cracked the door there was a sea of light pink hair filling his entire field of vision. Zero Two jumped on him. She was soft and muscular and giggling with excitement as she latched onto his shoulders. They kissed urgently, thrice, four times. He suspected that being held by him like this had become her favorite position. The red edges of her eyelids were an inch from his face.

“Good morning, Zero Two,” he murmured, though it was nearly one in the afternoon. “You look really pretty this morning.”

“Thanks,” she whispered proudly. “I can tell you didn’t sleep very well, Darling. There are shadows under your eyes. But they make you look so handsome, I’m tingling. I know I’m awful. I’ll give you a head massage.”

He kissed her again. “You’re sweet.”

“Did you talk to the doctor?”

“I did, and now I’m more confused than I was yesterday.”

“You haven’t eaten, right? I can tell something is bothering you. Let’s have lunch, and you can tell me about it.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

She placed the tips of her horns against his forehead.

“You!” shouted Miku, her arm trembling as her finger pointed directly at Zero Two. “Get away from him.”

Zero Two pointed her finger at her own chest, then looked at her partner, baffled, who returned the expression.

“Um,” said Hiro.

“This is not a game!” snapped Miku. “We’re segregating the dorm by gender. See the line? Now stop touching him and get over on this side, Zero Two. You are currently in official violation of Mistelteinn’s code of conduct!”

Hiro’s partner was clearly concentrating very hard on not bursting into laughter. He looked down at the cluster of parasites at the foot of the stairs, facing off against each other; he saw now that all the boys were gathered on his right and the girls on his left—with the exception of Ikuno, who was standing near the dining hall doorway, and Ichigo, who was standing arms akimbo over the line, looking completely exasperated.

“Uh,” said Hiro, looking at Ichigo. “What’s…”

Miku cleared her throat very loudly and jerked her head at Zero Two. The latter shrugged and moved to the other side of the staircase to hang over the railing, looking bemusedly at the gathering below them.

“Zorome,” barked Miku. “It’s your fault, so you get to explain it to them.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Zorome angrily. “Stop being a baby.”

“I’m hungry. Get on with it,” said Hiro. Zero Two yawned.

“Fine. _Someone_ got all pissy with me this morning. For _some_ reason, _someone_ told _someone_ I was staring at _someone’s_ ass for the entire volleyball game yesterday.”

“You’re not even denying it!” screeched Miku, her judgmental finger swiveling to point at him. “You’re disgusting. See? Why would I want to pilot with this guy?”

“Huh?” said Hiro. “Hang on, you didn’t know? That never even crossed my mind. He’s so obvious about it, we just thought you didn’t care.”

“Hiro!” hissed Zorome. Miku’s face was reddening to match her hair. “You’re not helping, dude.”

“So how did it get to this point?” Hiro folded his arms over his chest. “You apologized and said you’d stop, right? And…?”

Zorome’s eyes bulged.

Goro hurried up the stairs to where Hiro stood and bent toward him to speak in secret.

“Listen,” he whispered. “We’ve kind of already drawn a party line over this. Miku got…um…carried away. I think she convinced the others that all of us ogle our partners. I don’t think you can intervene at this point.”

Hiro blinked in confusion.

“I’ve heard all I need to hear,” proclaimed Miku. “Girls, let’s get lunch. This is wasting our time.”

She whirled around and made toward the doors to the dining hall. Kokoro twitched at the word _girls_. Ikuno looked uninterested. Ichigo was scowling.

“Zero Two, aren’t you going with them?” said Goro.

“This argument is too dumb for me to understand. I’m just going to eat with Darling.”

“You can’t just—” began Zorome furiously.

“Fight me, then,” said Zero Two.

Zorome flushed almost as deeply as his partner had.

“That’s what I thought,” said Hiro’s partner sweetly.

“I’m so confused,” said Hiro slowly. “How did you guys let it get this far? Apologize to them and promise not to do it again. That would take ten seconds.”

“You’re kidding me!” Zorome’s hair was an untidy mess, which only got untidier as he ran his fingers through it, staring angrily up the stairs at the two of them. “ _Looking_ at someone doesn’t hurt them. She didn’t even know it was happening, for god’s sake. Hello! Earth to Hiro! You want us to start reading the girls’ minds now, or what?”

“Miku just said she didn’t want you to,” said Hiro flatly.

“Dude, have you _seen_ the pistil uniform?” demanded Zorome. “That’s closer to being naked than a swimsuit is, and they wear those all the time! We practically _have_ to stare at them. You’re acting like you don’t ogle _her_ when you two are piloting?” He gestured angrily in Zero Two’s direction. “Pretending that you’re above all this just makes you look like _more_ of a creep, dude.”

Zero Two blinked innocently. Zorome stormed off in the direction of the dining hall, remembered that it was occupied, turned on his heel and exited into the living room, slamming the wooden door behind him. Futoshi, looking nervous, followed him; Goro shrugged and did the same.

“I like when you look at me,” Zero Two reminded him, grinning, flashing her fangs so he could see them. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Now that the entrance hall was clear, he could kiss her freely without others seeing. He did so.

They ate lunch outside in the shade, since Zero Two liked the sunlight more than anything else. She listened earnestly as he related what Frank had told him about the “infection,” though she cut him off halfway through the explanation.

“I know all that stuff,” said Zero Two impatiently, chewing on a mouthful of muffin.

“Right. Sorry. I guess you would.”

Of course she would have; Zero Two, of all people, would not have missed the pattern of all her partners’ deaths. She would have wanted to know more than anybody.

“Thanks for deciding to fly with me even though you knew I could die.”

She leaned her head against his chest. “You’re the one who gave me wings, Darling. I should be the one thanking you. You’re sweet.”

He kissed the top of her head. The warmth of the early afternoon and the comfortable weight of Zero Two lying in his lap had momentarily driven the confusion and worry out of his mind.

“Of course. I’ll always be your wings, Zero Two.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed. “Darling, you never told me what was bothering you.”

“Oh, right. Well, it’s not a big deal. It’s just…”

Hiro sighed. Where to even start? Zero Two hadn’t ever met Naomi; he had no idea how she might react to the phrase _my last partner_ —would she panic again, like what had happened with Ichigo?

“The doctor told me something…weird.”

His partner’s entire body stiffened suddenly from neck to toes. Hiro flinched in surprise.

“And?” said Zero Two, her voice carefully modulated.

“It’s not about us. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

_What’s wrong, Zero Two?_

“Oh.” She relaxed minutely. “Sorry. It’s nothing. Go on.”

“Well…the girl that I used to partner with, before I met you.”

“ _I dragged my partner down with me_ ,” recited Zero Two. “That one?”

“You remembered?”

“I wondered what kind of girl she was,” said his partner, very quietly. “Your eyes when you said it made my heart break. She must’ve been special to you.”

“She was. Well—I mean—that’s the thing. She’s still alive.”

“Still alive?” repeated Zero Two.

“The klaxosaur that we fought the first time, it crushed a ground transport when it surfaced. She was inside it.”

“Oh,” said Zero Two.

“I thought she was dead,” he said softly, half to himself. “The doctor told me she’s been in cryo since then, because she’s a _medical curiosity_. I don’t understand. Why didn’t they tell us?”

“What would you do if you knew?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I should do.”

“What do you _want_ to do, Darling?”

He clenched his fist unconsciously. “I want them to let Naomi go. I want her to come and live in Mistelteinn with us.”

“Hmm,” said Zero Two.

“I’m so sick of watching my friends get used up and thrown away by the adults. Naomi didn’t ask for this. She didn’t do anything wrong. She’s not a tool. She’s a person, like us.”

Her eyes were brilliant green in the sunlight. She was watching his face. His jaw was clenched in determination. Her mouth silently formed the word _us_. Then she grinned.

“I like you,” she said. “You’re very dashing. Okay, Darling, I’m sold. I want to help.”

“Help…?”

“Help you get Naomi back.”

* * *

The disagreement within the dorm had only escalated while they were gone. Hiro was glad, for one, that there was something distracting the others from interrogating him about the meeting with Doctor Frank—and distracting them from drowning Ikuno in questions about her former partner, either. Never, though, had one of Miku’s and Zorome’s arguments lasted this long, and he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or start worrying.

Zero Two suffered no such indecision. Whenever her eyes fell on the masking tape line running through the center of the dorm, she giggled to herself. She laughed outright upon seeing the signs posted outside the two matched washrooms, which had once read _BOYS_ and _GIRLS_ respectively; they now both read _GIRLS_.

One morning soon afterward, Hiro left their room and made for the washroom only to run into Zero Two on the stairs, both her arms full with cardboard boxes that—as he looked closer—seemed to be holding various undergarments. She flushed pink upon seeing him and leapt up onto the banister next to his head, holding the boxes preemptively out of his reach, though he hadn’t made a motion to take them from her.

“Uh…Zero Two?”

“Don’t go downstairs for a bit, Darling. I bit off a little more than I could chew.”

His eyes moved several times from the mess of boxes in her arms to her blushing face, and back again. Those boxes looked familiar…

“Zero Two, you’re instigating, aren’t you?”

Her laughter was like rustling leaves. She hoisted the boxes over her head and jumped up onto the second floor landing, and she landed as lightly on her two feet as a cat would.

“Catch me if you can!” she trilled, and her trailing pink hair disappeared into the hallway.

Hiro descended the staircase instead, taking the steps two at a time, a mixture of exasperation, annoyance, and amazement building in his chest. Never in a hundred years would he have guessed that his partner could think of a prank like this. She’d been so disinterested in the rest of the squad since he met her, and suddenly now…

He turned the corner and collided with an irate Zorome, whose soggy hair was falling forward into his eyes. Goro and Futoshi flanked him; all three were clutching towels around their waists, and they all glared furiously at Hiro as he appeared.

“Hi,” said Goro, trying to smile at him, though it came off as more of a grimace. “Hey, Hiro, do you think you could get your partner to give me my underwear back?”

“It was probably his idea, you moron!” snapped Zorome, whose face was beet red.

Hiro put up his hands in surrender.

“Just keep running,” advised Goro, and he shouldered past Hiro into the hallway.

“Running?” repeated Hiro, confused. “It’s just underwear. You can get spares upstairs.”

“Not _that_ ,” said Zorome angrily. “She…she…we…”

The redness in his face seemed to be obstructing his speech. Futoshi took over.

“Look,” he said, brows creased with concern. “That’s not the issue. She—well, somebody—swapped the signs on the washrooms…so…I-I mean, it’s not like I forgot which was which! We’ve been using them forever! We just thought maybe the girls commandeered ours, and wanted to swap? B-but uh, they, uh…”

“You walked in on them?” said Hiro in disbelief.

Futoshi shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

“So now, Miku is coming to kill me,” said Zorome furiously. “I swear I’m gonna kill Zero Two. The girls already thought we were perverts, and this is just going to make everything worse. Get _out_ of my way,” he added at Hiro, shoving him aside. Futoshi followed the two of them, giving Hiro a pained, apologetic look as he passed.

Barely ten seconds later the sound of footfalls heralded the arrival of the girls, who—as Hiro had expected—all looked irate. They, too, were wrapped in towels; Miku stormed past him, appearing not to notice him, muttering something under her breath about “murder.” Ichigo stopped in front of him, her lip trembling with rage; Ikuno and Kokoro both shrunk away at the sight of him, both instinctively covering their bodies with their hands, though the towels already concealed them. He hastily averted his eyes.

“Please,” said Ichigo, in a voice of very forced calm, “please, please tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

Hiro shook his head. “I just got here. They passed me ten seconds ago.”

“You didn’t stop them?”

“I don’t really want to touch them.”

“Okay, I can’t blame you for that,” said Ichigo. “Whose idea was it? Probably Zorome, right? This stopped being funny a long time ago. I need to talk to—”

“It wasn’t his idea.” Hiro gritted his teeth. “They just got caught in the crossfire. It was Zero Two’s idea, actually.”

Ichigo looked baffled. The other two girls’ heads turned toward him at the sound of his partner’s name, though they said nothing.

“…why? Doesn’t she understand how gross that—”

“No, I don’t really think she does.” He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Sorry you guys had to deal with this. I’ll talk to her.”

“Yeah,” said Ichigo distantly. “Thanks. Ugh.” She shivered. “I can’t stand this. I wish we’d never gone to the beach. I never would’ve realized Goro…”

“M-maybe,” said Kokoro softly, and they all turned to look at her. She blushed. “Maybe we should…maybe we should make up with them?”

Ikuno gave her a questioning look.

“I mean…” Kokoro huddled the towel closer around her, like a turtle retreating into its shell. “It isn’t that much of a problem, is it? They didn’t mean to walk in on us, this time…and I mean, at the beach…it’s just looking, isn’t it? It won’t hurt anyone, will it? I hate fighting. M-maybe we should just forget it and go back to normal.”

“No,” said Ichigo flatly, “maybe we shouldn’t.”

Ikuno nodded.

“But…”

“You don’t like it either, do you?” said Ikuno quietly.

Kokoro blinked several times. Hiro was worried she might start tearing up; he averted his eyes again.

“N-no,” whispered Kokoro. “I don’t. Even when Futoshi-kun does it. It makes me feel so…”

She shivered and pulled the towel tighter around herself.

“We deserve basic human respect,” said Ichigo stonily. “I’m not piloting again until Goro apologizes. Until all of the boys apologize, actually. I’m tired of this.”

“Not piloting?” gasped Kokoro. “But what if the plantation is attacked in the meantime?”

“Then they get to decide if they want to grow up or be killed,” said Ikuno.

Ichigo nodded. Kokoro looked back and forth between the two of them. She was pale, and her lip was trembling; but something about the other two girls’ resolve seemed to solidify her decision.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re right. I’m not gonna pilot either.”

Ichigo smiled.

“Hiro-kun,” said Kokoro suddenly, her voice sounding fainter still. “I…have a question.”

“Go on,” he prompted her, observing a ceiling light fixture closely.

Ikuno shook her head, but Kokoro ignored it.

“How did you and Zero Two-chan not get caught up in all this?”

“I don’t know if she really feels close enough to the squad to take part in a fight.”

“That isn’t what I mean.” The silver-haired girl’s eyes were wide and earnest. “How do you two get along so well? Why didn’t this happen to you too? Is she not upset at all?”

“I think you should ask _her_ that.”

“I’m asking _you_ , Hiro-kun.”

Hiro sighed.

“I’d like to say it’s because we’re partners, we trust each other, and she knows that if anything I do bothers her, she can tell me and I’ll make it right. But honestly, after a lot of the things she’s told me…I’m starting to wonder if she just never realized that she was allowed to say ‘no.’”

Ikuno covered her mouth with the back of her hand and turned away, as though she suddenly felt the urge to vomit.

Kokoro let out a low gasp. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Ichigo’s expression of stony anger softened slightly—she looked pained.

“Anyway,” said Hiro, after a few seconds of silence. “I’ll let you all get dressed. I’m going to go find Zero Two and…talk to her. I’ll get all your stuff back. I’ll talk to Zorome and the rest too, if I can find them. Sorry about this.”

Ichigo nodded. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault.”

The hinged skylight window was hanging open when he entered the attic room again. He pulled himself laboriously through the opening—likely with much more difficulty than Zero Two would’ve had—and crept carefully out onto the old slanted shingled roof, feeling dead leaves and twigs under his feet.

The sun was setting; it could almost have been resting directly on Zero Two’s head, where she sat cross-legged on the roof’s ridge, balancing delicately at the very edge of the building. She heard his approach and turned to look; the boxes, heaped carelessly in her lap, teetered and nearly fell.

“Darling,” she said, and she sounded slightly distant and disappointed. “You didn’t come after me. I got bored waiting up here.”

“I ran into…well, everyone, downstairs. They held me up a little bit.” He scooted carefully into a sitting position next to her. “Also they told me what happened.”

“It was a good prank, wasn’t it?” Zero Two enthused. “Everyone was _furious_. I think I might be a natural at pranks.”

She broke off as he placed his hand on top of her own.

“You should probably go back and apologize to the girls,” he said hesitantly. “They’re really upset.”

Zero Two blinked at him several times in innocent confusion. “Why?”

“ _Why_? What do you mean? It wouldn’t bother you if one of the other stamens burst in on you in the shower?”

She tilted her head to the side like an inquisitive cat, in the way that she had done once at the lake.

“I suppose,” she said. “It would have a long time ago, anyway. But shouldn’t they be used to that kind of thing? That’s just how stamens are.”

“It doesn’t _have_ to be how stamens are. We can change it.”

Zero Two laughed softly. “How exactly do you plan on changing it, Darling?”

“Tell them to stop. Honestly. I think it can be that simple. We’re the experimental squad, right? We can make things the way we want them to be.”

She felt a little fluttering in her stomach, and those eyes like ice crystals were boring into her, and Darling’s hands were so strong and warm, and slightly callused from the hours he’d spent in training and at the FRANXX’ controls. For a moment, she permitted herself to imagine it. How lovely, to make things be the way they wanted them to be?

And then, once she’d gotten what she wanted, what then would happen to him? There was no place for the new Darling in a world where the old Darling had come back to save her, as he’d promised many many years ago.

_Why can’t I be happy for now?_

Why did it always come back to this?

She steeled herself internally, and smiled at him, and took both his hands and placed them against her cheeks so their gentle warmth protected her from the chilly breeze.

Zero Two apologizing, Ichigo realized, was unexpectedly adorable. For a brief moment—half a minute, if that—she’d dropped her omnipresent facade of cool indifference, and now she was blushing and clasping her hands together and not properly meeting their eyes. And though the pink-haired girl was a head taller than her, Ichigo found herself containing with difficulty the urge to reach out and pat her on the head between her horns and tell her that everything was alright, that they all knew it wasn’t on purpose, that she had nothing to worry about.

“I’m sorry,” Zero Two said in a very small voice. “I’m sorry for encouraging the boys and for embarrassing everyone. Darling explained it to me. I didn’t realize how rude and hurtful it was.”

“It’s okay,” whispered Kokoro, sounding strained. “Thanks, Zero Two-chan. I’m not upset. You’re very sweet.”

“You really shouldn’t be apologizing, anyway,” added Ichigo. “You were just trying to have some fun. It’s the boys’ fault.”

“Hmph!” snorted Miku. “Whatever.” Ikuno elbowed her very hard in the ribs, and she yelped in pain.

“Darling said we should make things the way we want them to be.” Zero Two was still staring at her own twisting hands. “Your partners are…they’re not kind, are they? The way Darling is to me.”

“Hiro said that?”

“Lay off Zorome,” said Miku sharply. “He’s my partner, not yours.”

“I thought you were mad at him,” remarked Ikuno. “She’s got a point, doesn’t she? Zorome isn’t kind to you at all. He’s an asshole.”

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s exactly what the point is.”

“Whatever,” huffed Miku, and left.

Zero Two watched her go, looking upset.

“I don’t think that’s quite right, Zero Two-chan,” said Kokoro. She reached toward the pink-haired girl, as if to comfort her, as though she wanted to caress her hands, but her nerve seemed to fail her. “They can be kind. Futoshi-kun is really good to me, mostly. After what happened today, I understand what you mean—but I still believe in them. I think they can change.”

“Stop that,” said Goro sharply. “You’re gonna break it.”

Zorome, idly kicking the slats over his head in frustration, froze mid-kick. Hiro sighed in relief as the muted thumping coming from the bunk below him stopped.

“I’m tired of this,” said Zorome sourly. “The girls’ve never made this big of a deal about _anything_. Christ, I wish they’d grow up.” He gave the slats of the upper bunk a final sullen kick.

“I wish _you’d_ grow up,” said Goro irritably. “If you break that thing, Hiro is going to fall on you and the slats are gonna knock half your teeth out.”

“Maybe that would be an improvement,” said Hiro.

Goro laughed abruptly. “Maybe.”

“See?” grumbled Zorome. “They’re even seeding discord in our ranks as we speak. They’re united together under a common purpose. Right? We gotta unite too, or our movement is gonna collapse. You guys agree with me, don’t you? We gotta work together and make our voices heard.” He kicked the slat again, and Hiro heard a muted creaking noise.

“If you do that again, I’m going to kick you in the face,” said Hiro.

“Double digits boy up there is a lost cause, but you guys agree with me, right?” He turned his neck to look at Goro and Futoshi, who were sitting on adjacent bunks. “Goro? Futoshi?”

Goro, seeming annoyed, said nothing and stared distractedly out the window. Futoshi did not seem to have heard him; he was staring down at his own hands on the mattress, apparently lost in thought.

“Hey,” said Zorome, half-annoyed, half-concerned, and Hiro heard the sound of him shifting into an upright sitting position. “Guys?”

Futoshi opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated.

“You’re wimping out on me, aren’t you?” said Zorome in disgust.

“No,” said Futoshi in a quiet voice, the first time Hiro had heard him speak since they’d all entered the spare bedroom.

“So?” demanded Zorome. “Spit it out, then.”

“Ever since this morning, I’ve felt…” Futoshi placed one hand over his chest, seemingly without thinking. “Like…I dunno. Peeking on girls is supposed to be…like…harmless, right? But I can’t get that look on Kokoro’s face out of my head. I dunno,” he said again. “I feel like it actually made her really upset.”

“Of course it made her really upset,” Zorome snapped. “Girls are way oversensitive.”

“But it makes me feel sick,” objected Futoshi. “I don’t want my partner to be unhappy like that. _Especially_ if it’s my fault. How do you even know they’re being oversensitive? Whose job is it to figure out how sensitive girls are supposed to be?”

Goro shifted in his seat, but said nothing.

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Zorome.

“I’m talking about I’m gonna tell her ’sorry,’” said Futoshi. “The girls work just as hard as we do. The least we can do is respect them, and not make them feel uncomfortable in their own home. _Our_ home. You guys should too.”

Hiro grinned down at him from the upper bunk, and Futoshi, catching his eye, smiled nervously back.

“You guys should be ashamed to call yourselves stamens.”

Zorome rolled out of the bunk and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Goro stared grimly after him.

“Anyway, let’s go talk to the girls, yeah?” said Hiro, sliding off the top bunk and landing heavily on the floor.

“Y-yeah.” Futoshi swallowed. “You’re right. I bet Kokoro is still upset.”

“What about Zorome?” said Goro. “He’s gonna be a problem eventually. If he isn’t one already.”

Hiro shrugged. Zorome had always been his least favorite of the stamens—save the one exception who was now no longer in the squad—but he’d never struck Hiro as truly nasty and mean-spirited, only stubborn and confused.

“Maybe Miku will be able to talk some sense into him,” suggested Hiro.

“Yeah.” Goro sighed. “If anyone can do it, it’s her.”

* * *

“Good morning, Nana.”

“Hiro, Zero Two—good morning.”

Nana looked a little worn; for the first time in Hiro’s memory, he could see bags under her eyes, and her face was a little pale, as though she’d been up very late doing something stressful. The smile she directed at the two of them, though, was as warm and cheery as it had ever been. Hiro felt a very slight twinge of hope. Nana was the one person whom it was most important to have on their side.

“Are you feeling better?” she inquired. “You were injured on the vacation trip, right?”

He touched his cheek, feeling one of the half-dozen patches of shiny scar tissue.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course.” In the faint bluish glow reflected from the computer screen in front of her, Nana looked a little unwell. “Is there something you two need? Did something happen in the dorm?”

“Nah, nothing big.” He had decided it was best not to tell Nana about the inter-parasite feud. He had no idea what the chances were that it would land them in serious trouble. “Um, Zero Two and I were in the library yesterday, and we noticed that everything in there is kind of…outdated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there are plenty of old encyclopedias and lots of nonfiction stuff about the old world, but we can’t find anything that’s related to more recent history. There’s almost nothing about klaxosaurs, or plantations, or the Council, or anything like that. But I remember learning about them in Garden. Why aren’t they in the library now?”

Hiro bit his lip and prayed for Nana not to connect the dots.

“Well, they’re ordinarily not…” Nana trailed off, staring unfocusedly into the computer screen. She looked deep in thought. “Um…information of that nature is…generally kept confidential.”

“Well, I can see that,” said Hiro patiently. “Why? As parasites, shouldn’t we be the most informed about what we’re defending, and who we’re fighting to defend it?”

Nana’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, exactly?”

“You don’t trust Darling?” said Zero Two, staring at Nana with her patented look of wide-eyed innocence. “I can’t believe there’s a person in the world that wouldn’t trust Darling.”

Nana blinked several times, looking both confused and upset.

“That’s not really the issue here,” she said finally. “Ideally, the courses in Garden should have covered everything you need to know. We try to avoid giving the parasites information beyond that—I mean…”

“Why?”

“Um…” Nana looked flustered.

“We know that all parasites die before they reach adulthood,” said Zero Two, even more innocently. “Considering that, it wouldn’t really hurt for us to know more about the klaxosaurs, right? What’s the risk?”

The color drained out of the aide’s cheeks.

“Sorry!” gasped Zero Two. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Hiro watched in apprehension as Nana shut off the computer monitor, rose from the seat behind the tiny desk in the little room, circled it and sat on the desk top in front of them, arms folded across her chest. She looked angry—no, it was more than that. The gentle cheeriness of her round features was gone. Nana was deadly serious.

“You two understand that you’re being watched, right?” said Nana.

Zero Two’s expression was unreadable. Hiro wondered if she had felt what he had: a sudden tingle of cold horror, like dipping his hands into icy water.

“By who?” said Zero Two softly.

“You know _exactly_ who, code zero-zero-two.”

Zero Two’s lips were a thin line.

“What do you want?” continued Nana in a low voice, her tone brisk. “Whatever you two are trying to cook up, I absolutely forbid it. After the incident where you—” she glared at Hiro— “interrupted her departure, I cannot guarantee your safety if you bend rules again, regardless of how valuable you may or may not be as a parasite.”

She opened her communicator briefly, punched in some numeric code, and Hiro heard a very soft _click_ noise from an indeterminate direction.

“Spit it out,” she said. “You’ve got two minutes.”

“We’ll keep it short, then,” said Hiro. “I need to know how cryostasis is maintained, where in 13 the cryo pods are stored, and how to rehabilitate a restored patient.”

Nana’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible to everyone in the room.

“Why did…h-how did…” Her face was ashen. “Who…who told you?”

“The doctor.” He was determined not to break eye contact. “Who knows why. Nana, why did you keep it from us?”

“I can’t—I don’t have time to explain it. Not here.”

Hiro folded his arms across his chest. “Fine. Just tell us what we need to know, and we’ll be out of here. As far as APE is concerned, we did everything on our own in direct violation of orders.”

“‘Everything’ what, exactly?”

“Nana,” said Zero Two urgently.

She sighed. “Give me your communicator, then.”

Hiro handed it over, and the aide typed for a few moments with such speed that it sounded like rainfall on glass.

“Here,” said Nana, offering him the communicator again. “Do not discuss this in the plantation. Do not tell anyone else about it, unless you’re _absolutely sure_ you can trust them. Do not send any information between communicators—they’re all being monitored.” She glanced down at the clock on her desk. “Time will be up in three seconds.”

“Thanks, Nana,” said Hiro quietly.

“Ugh!” said Zero Two. “None of the adults will tell us anything. I thought you’d be different, Nana. I thought you might help. Thanks for nothing.”

“Sorry, Zero Two,” said Nana, her gentle smile back in place. “Rules are rules. No matter how capable of a parasite you are, it’s for your own safety.”

She nodded slightly at Hiro. Zero Two, who seemed to have decided to ham it up for the invisible observers, spun on her heel and exited the office in a huff.

“Take care of her, Hiro,” called Nana after him, as he made to follow his partner. There was a little bubble of relief building in his chest, and he was aching to go share it with Zero Two.

“Don’t worry. As long as we have each other, we’re gonna be okay.”

* * *

It was hard to say whether Futoshi or Kokoro looked more nervous. They stood facing, though not looking at, each other, both twisting their hands nervously on either side of the invisible line drawn across the dorm by the line of white masking tape that had since been peeled away.

This was not as endearing as Zero Two struggling to apologize. Ichigo tapped her foot impatiently.

“I—” said both the partners in unison; they both realized they were interrupting the other, turned bright red, and stopped speaking at once. A few seconds passed.

“Come on,” said Goro, nudging the other boy with his elbow. “Be a big boy. Spit it out.”

“Kokoro,” burst out Futoshi. “I w-want to apologize for what happened yesterday. I was…really rude to you, and I’m sorry.”

Kokoro’s ears, visible under her curtain of silver hair, were scarlet.

“It’s okay,” she said, sounding slightly strangled. “I’m not mad at you. Thank you for apologizing, Futoshi-kun.”

Beads of sweat were visible on Futoshi’s brow. Kokoro extended both arms toward him, and they hugged, extremely awkwardly. Ichigo saw Kokoro whisper something in her partner’s ear, though she couldn’t make out any of the words. Futoshi went nearly purple.

“Same here,” said Goro, stepping forward. He sounded a bit more confident than Futoshi, but his telltale nervous tic—scratching the back of his neck—gave him away, and he was also not meeting Ichigo’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Ichigo. I can tell you that I respect you as a partner and as squad leader, but that doesn’t mean anything if my actions don’t show it. What happened yesterday won’t happen again.”

For some reason, Ichigo felt a little twinge of annoyance. But she couldn’t put words as to why, and it wouldn’t help anyone to make a scene now—she simply smiled understandingly at her partner, who looked relieved. He extended his hand, and she shook it.

“Ikuno, too,” said Goro.

“Right!” gasped Futoshi. “I almost forgot.”

Ikuno, who was standing a little behind the other two girls, arms folded, was not blushing.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said quietly.

“We shouldn’t have—” started Futoshi anxiously.

“Drop it,” said Ichigo, cutting him off. Next to her, Ikuno shivered slightly. “It’s fine. Thanks, you two. I appreciate it.”

* * *

_Ichigo. I-chi-go. Code-fifteen. Strawberry girl. Remember the name he gave you? He’s gone and he’s not coming back._

A featureless white face, an indentation in one of the blank walls in the plantation. Who did it remind her of? She’d seen the monkey-mask faces of the council once in her life—via hologram, during the parasite graduation ceremony. Was it one of them? It might be. The face changed and split open, and everything around her turned black, and there were glowing blue lines like veins running along the floor. Now the features were gone and it was only a gaping mouth with jagged teeth, and it was pulling her in and ready to swallow her whole. There was a glowing ember burning inside her stomach.

“Ichigo?”

She awoke panting and sweating, tangled in the thick covers in the bottom bunk of the shared bedroom. The afterimage of the dream glowed in her vision—for a split second, the walls might have been pulsing like a heartbeat. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Familiar shapes—the old wooden door, the cool bluish-white patch of moonlight on the floor, the glass pitcher of water on the bedside table. Ikuno was standing in the middle of the room, hugging herself against the chilliness. She looked much younger without her glasses.

“Ichigo?” she whispered again.

Ichigo shared this room with Miku; Ikuno’s and Kokoro’s bunk was in the next room down the hall. What was she doing in here at two in the morning?

“I’m awake,” she said, and her hand fumbled for the silver swan-shaped hair clip. It was there on the table where she’d left it, cold and shiny and sharp-edged. The sensation eased her heartbeat. “Ikuno? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“S-sorry,” said Ikuno, her face turning paler. “Were you having a bad dream? I can come later. I…I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ichigo hoisted a smile onto her face, to beam reassuringly at the other girl, then turned to the bedside table to pour herself a glass of water. “I’m squad leader. You can talk to me whenever you need to. Just had a restless night, that’s all.”

“Okay. Um…me too.”

“Sit,” said Ichigo, and patted the surface of the covers next to her. After a moment of hesitation, Ikuno sat. Without her glasses or her butterfly hair clip, her aspect was totally different. Far from being as perfectly composed as always, she looked like a lost and frightened little girl.

Ichigo felt a twinge of sympathy. _Wish someone could be “squad leader” for me._

She’d decided to let Ikuno speak first, so as nothing was forthcoming, she took a long sip of cold water and looked out the window at the glowing moon.

Ikuno, picking listlessly at the sleeves of her nightgown, broke the silence finally.

“Remember when we were little, in Garden?”

“Of course.”

“There were so many of us back then that we used to share beds.” Ikuno let out the slightest of chuckles. “I guess you can fit a lot of little kids in one bed, can’t you?”

“I remember that,” said Ichigo. “It was you and me and a boy I don’t remember, and a girl called Karen, I think.”

“That’s right.”

“Mmm. It was so cozy sleeping in a little pile like that. I don’t think I ever had a restless night’s sleep then.”

“That’s because you always stole my blanket,” said Ikuno, looking at Ichigo, her face totally expressionless.

“I did?”

“Every night,” said the other girl. “I’d always wake up with one knee under the covers, and nothing else.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do,” laughed Ichigo.

“Yes it does,” said Ikuno, in a tone of absolute certainty.

“Maybe. I was a brat as a kid, wasn’t I?”

“You still are, sometimes.”

Ikuno lifted her feet off the floor and tucked her legs under her. She was idly fingering a handful of the covers that she’d taken, seemingly without realizing it. Ichigo took another sip.

“So…I originally came in here to ask you something,” said Ikuno eventually. “As Ichigo, I mean. Not as Squad Leader. But now I’m scared to say it. Isn’t that funny? I came in to bother the one person I can actually talk to, wake her up in the middle of the night, and ramble about being a kid again. That’s funny, isn’t it?”

Ichigo reached out to touch the other girl’s shoulder comfortingly. Ikuno jumped as though she’d received an electric shock.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Do it again. I’m just jumpy right now.”

Ichigo complied, and Ikuno sighed very deeply. “Thanks.”

“You can ask me anything, as anyone,” said Ichigo, squeezing her shoulder gently. “As Squad Leader, or as Ichigo, or as Goro’s partner, or as the little girl you grew up with, or whatever you want.”

Ikuno hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. Ichigo, rubbing her shoulder, noted that she was trembling, and that she could easily feel every contour of Ikuno’s shoulder blade between her fingers—the other girl was thinner than she’d ever been.

_How long has this been going on for?_

Ikuno’s voice was muffled by her knees when she finally spoke. She might have been trying to stop Ichigo from hearing her.

“Why am I still here?”

“Still where?” said Ichigo automatically.

“Here, in Squad 13. With all of you.”

“I don’t think it’ll help to ask yourself that.”

“I stopped being useful a long time ago,” mumbled Ikuno into her own knees. “I’m scared, Ichigo. I’m so scared. I can’t _not_ ask myself that. They’re going to take me away sooner or later, and I’ll never see you again.”

“We’re not going to let that happen,” said Ichigo firmly.

Ikuno laughed softly again, and the bitterness was more pronounced than ever. “You can’t stop them. We all loved Naomi, and they threw her away just like that. And I’m worse. I’ll never be able to pilot, Ichigo. I hate every second of it. I can’t stand it. Even if a new stamen drops out of the sky, I don’t think I can ever do it again.” She sobbed, and the sound was muffled. “I don’t have any choices left, do I?”

“I don’t care if you can’t pilot,” said the squad leader, very quietly. “You’re part of the squad. We’ll protect you, I promise. Whatever it takes.”

The lie tasted sour as it left her mouth. Ikuno looked at her for the first time since she’d entered the room. Her eyes were glittering with tears, and the bags under them were more visible than ever in the moonlight. Her shoulders were quivering with suppressed sobs. Ichigo felt a harsh stab of guilt—even if Ikuno had already faced the truth, her words had been cruel enough.

“Ikuno—”

Ikuno leaned forward and kissed her.

The tears on her cheeks were cold against Ichigo’s face, and her eyes were tightly shut. Ichigo was too shocked to be able to move. Ikuno’s arms were encircling her; their torsos were pressed together now and she could feel the other girl’s pounding heartbeat and hear her barely concealed sobs. Her lips were a little dry, but the sensation was soft and very warm. Ikuno’s palm was against the back of her neck.

Ikuno released her hold a second later and pulled away, and the look in her eyes was distant and unfocused; her whole body shuddered, and Ichigo instinctively placed her hand on the other girl’s shoulder again, though her heart was racing and her cheeks were hot.

“There,” mumbled Ikuno, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Promised myself I’d do that once before I die.” She smiled suddenly; her face might have been shining with happiness. “I know you hate me now. I’m really sorry, Ichigo. But that was worth it. I wanted at least one chance to do something that makes me happy.”

“I understand now,” breathed Ichigo. “Because pistils can’t pilot together.”

Ikuno buried her face in her knees again and began to cry in earnest.

“I don’t hate you,” added the squad leader. “Nothing you ever do can make me hate you. I’m so sorry, Ikuno. I didn’t know.”

In the silence of the sleeping dormitory, three girls in Mistelteinn sat awake, trying and failing to stave off loneliness under the cold blue light of the waxing moon.


	9. Spider Lily

_How long do you think you can keep this up?_

Forever.

_He’s a human. You, of all people, know how fragile humans are. Their bones are like glass. You can tear their skin like paper. They grow old and die and their bodies decay._

But he won’t.

_You think you’re doing him a favor? “I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for you,” he said. I’ve never heard anything so pathetic. Imagine a human who has so little respect for their own life that they think it’s not worth living. It makes you sick, doesn’t it?_

Shut up.

_He knows it too. He can feel, deep down, that he’s going to have to say goodbye to you soon. Haven’t you noticed? His kiss isn’t as soft as it used to be. His hands aren’t as gentle anymore. He knows it’s coming._

Leave me alone.

_Why else do you think he would try to go back to his old partner?_

She woke, then, in the pool of moonlight shining on the bed through the skylight, and Darling was lying next to her with his arm wrapped around her torso, fast asleep, and one of the strands of hair lying across his face was fluttering gently from the touch of his breath. Zero Two didn’t sleep again that night. If she closed her eyes again, a half dozen of the precious remaining hours she could spend with Darling would be gone in a blink, blowing away like dried leaves in wind. If she dreamed again, she would see the face of the pale blond-haired youth with green irises like hers.

She sat up and watched the moon for hours, until the light of dawn began to spill over the horizon.

Darling’s touch wasn’t as gentle as it used to be.

* * *

Fall was coming, and the trees planted around Mistelteinn were all growing crowns of orange and yellow leaves, and the morning breeze had a bite of chill to it. The humans that had inhabited the surface had lived through this four-season cycle every year, before Earth had become a single giant desolate desert. Hiro wondered why the adults had seen fit to replicate it for their living quarters—perhaps Squad 13 was special in this regard, too, because Garden had not had seasons either; since as early as he could remember, the “nursery” and the space around it had been cloaked in snow—like what Earth’s inhabitants would have called “winter.”

Secretly Hiro liked winter best, even though the days were short and the trees grew bare and the snow was so cold that it stung to walk on barefoot. On especially cold days, whenever they weren’t in classes or training, the children would spend the whole day bundled up together and read and share hot cocoa. He missed it now. He missed being a little kid, blissfully ignorant of how few of the faces around him would still be there a month from now.

These memories came back to him in the living room where he stood, surrounded by a half-circle of eight curious parasites looking back at him. Or rather, seven curious parasites—Zero Two already knew what this meeting was about, and he also remembered that she didn’t like crowds very much. She was perched on the armrest of one of the sofas, staring idly off into space, looking a little unhappy. Zorome and Miku were sitting opposite each other on two of the couches, and Hiro assumed they had finally awkwardly made up with each other: each kept looking from Hiro’s face to their partner’s, then looking away quickly once they realized their eyes had met.

Hiro wasn’t nearly as nervous as he should be, though—he knew that eventually the actual real absurdity of what he was about to say would crash down on him sooner or later and he wasn’t sure how well he’d handle it.

He cleared his throat. Zorome and Miku stopped pointedly not looking at each other. Zero Two glanced at him, then her eyes returned to the far wall.

“Hi,” he said, his mouth a little dry, his palms slightly sweaty.

Goro nodded at him encouragingly. Zorome and Ikuno both raised one eyebrow, almost exactly in sync. He still wasn’t sure exactly how to say what he wanted to say.

“I’ll try and keep this short.” Hiro clasped his hands together behind his back. He wondered how odd it looked for him to be the only one in the group that was standing up. “I found out something…important, from the doctor. I don’t know why he told me, and I’m absolutely sure that none of the parasites are supposed to know.”

A frisson ran through the group. Ikuno sat up a little straighter.

Hiro cleared his throat again. “So…for our safety—for the safety of anyone in Squad 13 who’s willing to help—none of what I’m going to tell you can ever leave this room.”

“ _Help?_ ” mouthed Ichigo.

“So, if you don’t want to be involved in this, raise your hand…please.”

His awkward half-command half-request died in the silence, and the faces surrounding him in the room looked confused and distrustful.

“Involved in _what_?” said Zorome finally. “You haven’t given us anything to go on.”

“I can’t,” he said, with a tinge of apology. “It’s dangerous, and the adults can’t know about it. There’s going to be no backing out once we’ve decided to do it.”

“Do _what_?” said the other boy in exasperation.

“Shut up, Zorome,” said his partner angrily. “You’re not helping.”

“Amen,” said Goro.

“I don’t think we need to know the details, yet,” observed Ichigo, and the other heads in the group turned to look at her. “Hiro—you’re trying to cook up some kind of ridiculous scheme, right? To help us somehow?”

“Um…yes.”

“Ichigo-chan, you know about this…about his…plan?” said Kokoro, wide-eyed.

The squad leader shook her head. “Not at all. But it’s the kind of thing Hiro does, right? You all remember what happened in Garden.”

“That’s true,” whispered Kokoro.

_What happened in Garden?_

What could he have done in Garden that everyone remembered? The others in the circle were all nodding to each other. What was Ichigo talking about? He would have to ask her later.

“Go on, Hiro,” said Goro, directing a slight smile at him. “I don’t see any raised hands. Everyone’s on board with whatever it is you’re planning. You have the floor.”

Hiro clasped his hands even more tightly together, so nobody could see how sweaty his palms were. The sight of Ichigo and Goro and Futoshi all smiling encouragingly at him, of Miku and Zorome both leaning forward in their seats to get a closer listen, had lit a comforting fire inside his chest. It _was_ like being in Garden again, after all—except that none of them could possibly understand how ridiculous, how dangerous, this plan was, and their reactions signified either total uncompromising trust or utter naïveté.

“Cool.” He cleared his throat again, shifted his feet into a position that felt a little more comfortable, looked around at the circle of watching faces, and braced himself. “Zero Two and I are going to break into Plantation One, and we’d like you all to help us.”

The encouraging smiles all flickered out in an instant like a dying lightbulb. Kokoro gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Zorome’s jaw slackened in disbelief. Ikuno’s eyes were boring into him, as if her look could drill a hole in his skull. Zero Two shifted uncomfortably in her seat—he glanced at her and tried to give a reassuring look, but her eyes were still fixed on the far wall.

“Okay,” said Goro. “Why?”

Hiro took a very deep breath and tried to calm his pounding heart. “Naomi is in there.”

Now both of Kokoro’s hands were over her mouth. Gasps and surprised exclamations passed through the group like a ripple in a pond.

“Naomi?” breathed Ikuno. “You mean… _our_ Naomi?”

“But Naomi is dead,” said Zorome harshly. Ichigo winced at the sound of the word.

“She isn’t,” said Hiro. “She’s been in cryo since then.”

“No, she hasn’t,” said Zorome blankly. “She’s dead. Her transport was crushed by the klaxosaur. You saw it happen.”

“I never saw her…her body,” said Hiro steadily. “The adults lied to us. They didn’t want us to look for her, so they told us she died in the accident.”

“Listen to yourself,” said Zorome, though there was a hint of urgency creeping into his voice. “Why would the adults lie to us? Why…why would Nana lie to us? She loved Naomi. She’d never lie to us about that. She wouldn’t just—”

“She did. APE told her to, so she had to.”

“No, you’re lying.” Zorome’s fists were clenched, resting on his knees. “How do you know? Prove it.”

“The doctor told me.”

“Who cares what _the doctor_ —”

“Nana admitted it when I asked her,” interrupted Hiro, breathing deeply, trying to control his anger. “Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me. The council made her do it. They want us to forget about Naomi. She’s not useful to them as a pilot, so they want to throw her away.”

“Hang on,” said Goro in a voice of forced calm, and he raised both his palms defensively. “Back up a sec. I get why you’re upset, Hiro. I do. But…there’s no way you actually think this is going to work, do you?”

“If I didn’t think it was going to work, I wouldn’t bother telling anyone about it,” said Hiro shortly.

“But…” Goro ran his fingers through his hair, looking exasperated, as the two girls sitting next to him on the couch looked at him instead of Hiro. “So…we break into Plantation One, right? The most heavily guarded plantation in the fleet. Okay. And we…we steal Naomi back? And then what? We bring her back here, and the adults just forget the whole thing and leave us alone?”

“You should’ve thought this through, maybe,” said Zorome sourly.

“Of course they’re not going to leave us alone,” said Hiro impatiently.

“We can’t even maintain a cryo pod in the dorm,” said Goro. “We don’t have any equipment. What are we going to do with it?”

“Hiro-kun, I really appreciate how far you’re willing to go for her,” started Kokoro anxiously, “but…”

“ _For her_?” sneered Zorome. “He’s just still crushing on his old partner, isn’t he?”

Hiro took another deep breath and rubbed his temples.

“Did you really not think about any of that stuff?” inquired Ichigo, in a subdued voice.

“Of course I did,” sighed Hiro. “The doctor told me Naomi’s fine physically. They treated her after the accident, because he asked them to…to keep her alive. The cryostasis pods have backup power sources that last a couple days, or something like that. Once we get her back here, she needs revival and physical rehab. There’s a whole set of guides on that in the medical library.”

“Right,” said Goro slowly. “So that’s the easy part. What about the part where we break into the plantation, violate every rule under the sun, and we all become fugitives?”

“Yeah, that part will be harder.”

“ _Harder_?” repeated the other in disbelief. “Earth to Hiro. There are nine of us—ten, if you count Naomi, who won’t be in a fit state to do anything—versus what, dozens of guards? Maybe hundreds of them? And thousands of adults, and the automated defense system?”

“That sounds about right,” said Hiro. “But we have FRANXX.”

The silence following this declaration was so thick that it felt like a solid weight placed on his chest.

“You’re insane,” breathed Ichigo.

“Yes.”

“Wait,” said Goro, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Wait, Hiro, you’re a genius.”

“Also yes.”

“We’ve lost Goro, too,” said Futoshi in a hushed voice.

“It could actually work,” said Goro slowly. “Nobody can pilot the FRANXX except us. That’s why we have to be the plantation’s defense force. Realistically, wouldn’t it be a lot easier to train adults to fly FRANXX? But that’s the fundamental limitation in the system. It’s why they need parasites.” His eyes were glittering. “They can’t do it themselves. So we have an advantage.”

Most of the parasites looked utterly shocked—with the exception of Ichigo, and surprisingly Ikuno, both of whom were wearing a hint of Goro’s triumphant excitement.

“C-can’t they just send Squad One after us?” stammered Miku finally. A couple of the others nodded.

“Yeah,” admitted Hiro. “That’s the risky part. We have to hope they don’t. Or if they try to, that we can convince the other squad that it isn’t worth the casualties.”

Again, Ichigo winced at the word _casualties_.

“Anyway…” continued Hiro awkwardly. “That’s the plan, basically. I still need to work out the details. But…well, you guys understand why this has to be kept quiet.”

The room was silent, and his face was burning. They were all looking at him. His plan sounded a thousand times more ridiculous when it was spoken aloud than when he’d planned it out in his head, or even when he wrote it down on the notepad that they kept on the bedside table in the attic room. Could this really work? Goro had a point, after all—in practice and experience, they were all still children.

“Um…I have a question.”

“Go on,” said Hiro, looking at Kokoro, thanking her inwardly for breaking the awkward silence.

“Um…will we have to…to kill anyone?”

The others’ faces turned toward her uneasily in unison, then back to Hiro. He sighed and rubbed his temples again.

“I hope not.” Her eyes were wide and afraid and he felt compelled to reassure her. “We want to break into cryo, take Naomi, and return to Mistelteinn in the FRANXX. I doubt the adults are going to try to fight us, considering how strong the FRANXX are. So if they order another squad to stop us…well…I’m going to try to make them understand what’s happening, without involving any bloodshed.”

“Do you really think you can just talk your way out of it?” asked Kokoro timidly.

“To another squad? Absolutely. All of them have had friends that they’ve watched disappear, or die in combat. You remember 090, don’t you?”

“That’s…that’s true,” whispered Kokoro.

“And if you can’t talk them out of it?” said Zorome coldly.

“Well, you know the answer, don’t you?” Hiro returned his icy stare. “We defend ourselves.”

“That isn’t _defending ourselves_ , Hiro. That’s attacking the plantation. If anything, they’re the ones acting in self-defense.”

“It _is_ defending ourselves,” he retorted. “If you consider Naomi to be a part of ‘us.’”

“That’s a pretty generous definition of self-defense,” sneered Zorome. “You haven’t forgotten, right, that the adults are the ones who built Mistelteinn? They made our clothes, and they took care of us when we were little kids, and they provide us food and train us and keep the FRANXX operational? I’m just saying, nobody would blame them if they sent a squad after us. Or, well, after _you_.”

“I don’t care if the adults build us an entire space station. We’re not their playthings. We’re _people_. We’re fucking _humans_.” He pounded his fist into his palm to punctuate each word. His temper was bubbling just underneath the surface, and now was the most critical moment to control it. Zero Two shifted slightly in her seat. “Naomi deserves to be allowed to live whether or not she’s _useful_ to the council. Just like everyone in this room. Like I said, I’ve had enough.”

“Does that include Mitsuru?” interrupted Futoshi in a low voice.

Hiro’s train of thought ran headlong into a brick wall.

After a few moments, he said, “I’m not sure where Mitsuru is.”

“But you _do_ want to help him, right? I mean…” Futoshi looked at the parasites gathered on the couches around him. “All that stuff about being humans sounded nice, but it does apply to everyone, doesn’t it? Not just girls you like.”

Ikuno shivered.

“This isn’t about me.”

“It kind of sounds like it,” said Zorome.

“Wasn’t Mitsuru part of _us_ , too?” pressed Futoshi. “Ikuno lost her partner. Don’t you think she’s upset about that?”

“Futoshi, drop it,” said Ichigo sharply.

“Why are you defending him?” Futoshi turned angrily on the squad leader, seated between her partner and Ikuno on the furthest squashy couch. “You see how weird this is, right? Ikuno, you want to see Mitsuru again, don’t you?”

“Please stop it,” whispered Ikuno suddenly. It was only the second time she’d spoken for the duration of the meeting; a moment later, she buried her face in her hands. Futoshi broke off, looking discomfited.

“See?” he said after a moment, looking back at Hiro and gesturing toward the distraught girl on the couch. “You should apologize to Ikuno.”

“Stop it,” repeated Ikuno a little louder, her voice muffled by her hands. “Stop it. Stop making me talk about Mitsuru. Please.”

“Futoshi, _drop it_ ,” said Ikuno angrily.

“What?” Futoshi looked around at the circle of faces, which were all turned on him now instead of Hiro. “What did I say?”

Ikuno stood, shrugging off Ichigo’s hand which had been massaging her shoulder, and stormed out of the room wordlessly. Briefly, before the door closed, Hiro saw her ascending the stairs toward the second floor.

“Somebody explain what’s going on,” said Futoshi blankly.

“Figure it out for yourself,” snapped Miku, looking at the round-cheeked boy with an expression of utmost disgust.

“Um…” said Hiro.

“Let’s do it,” said Miku firmly, still staring at Futoshi. “No offense, Hiro, but it always pissed me off that you were the one that got to stay behind when Naomi got shipped off. You’d better make it up to her.”

“That’s the plan.” Hiro ground his fist into the palm of his other hand. “Trust me, I didn’t like it any more than you did.”

Miku stared at the rest of the group, some of whom shifted uncomfortably when her gaze turned to them. “Anyone else have complaints?”

“Um…” said Kokoro, and flinched when Miku glared at her. “Miku-chan, I won’t stop you, but…”

“But?”

Kokoro looked at Miku, at her partner who sat baffled next to her on the couch, at the squad leader, then back to Hiro and Zero Two, and her expression was pleading and desperate.

“Just…please come back safe.”

“We will,” said Hiro. “I promise.”

* * *

_How long do you think you can keep this up?_

“Forever,” she’d said at first, like the stupid naïve little girl she was.

The ticking clock was accelerating.

“Hey, Darling.”

“Hi, Zero Two.”

Darling was hugging himself against the chill of the lake water, which was harsher now than it had ever been with the approach of autumn on the horizon. He couldn’t tolerate cold nearly as well as her, and in another lifetime she might have derived immense enjoyment out of sneaking up behind him and dunking him under the surface with great force.

“What was it like where you grew up?”

Darling was getting much better at adjusting to her unexpected questions; she couldn’t detect even a hint of surprise in his expression.

“In Garden, you mean?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“That’s where all the parasites come from.” Darling scratched his nose with his fingertips, both of which were very pale. “Honestly, Zero Two, I miss it a lot. Everything is so much simpler when you’re a kid.”

Zero Two could not in good faith agree with him.

“And it was so pretty there. It’s in a place called Plantation One. They have artificial weather, like we do here, but it always snowed.” There was a faraway look in his eyes that she’d rarely seen. “I’d like to see snow on the surface one day. Oh, right, sorry— _snow_ is like rain, but it’s—”

“I know about snow.”

“Oh, really?” Darling did look mildly surprised this time. “Cool. I always loved the snow as a kid.”

“Did you like going out and playing in it?”

“I would have, but I never got to.” Darling scratched his nose again. “I don’t think they wanted little kids going out and getting lost, and…freezing to death or something.”

“Mmm.”

“We’re allowed to now, though. It’ll start snowing in Mistelteinn in a couple months, and we can go sledding. And the surface of the lake freezes over, too. And sometimes, if it rains overnight, you wake up and all the branches are coated in ice. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It sounds lovely.”

Darling grinned. He looked reminiscent and peaceful.

“Zero Two, have you ever seen snow?”

* * *

_“Kokoro. Do you like it?”_

_“What’s it mean?”_

_“It’s a word for ‘heart.’ And I think it fits you because you have a big heart.”_

To a group of seven-year-olds, it was clever wordplay. She loved it.

_“O-okay.”_

_“And we can call you ‘Koko’ for short.”_

Thank Papa that nickname had never caught on. It was horrific, like something you’d name a pet, as if the children in Garden had ever been allowed to have one.

 _It fits you because you have a big heart._ The sentence had been lodged in her brain for the past twelve years. It wasn’t pleasant or unpleasant; it was just _there_ , like a very old scar whose wound had long since healed. Once upon a time, long ago, it _had_ been a warm cozy sensation to be told that she had a big heart, before she realized that it had been a lie.

_Ichigo is warm and clever and a good leader and a good listener. Miku is funny and confident and doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion. Ikuno is smart and brave and pretty, and stronger than all the rest of us put together. And Zero Two is…all of those._

_What am I?_

Maybe Futoshi hadn’t realized it yet, but she’d known for a long time that the two of them were only here because three FRANXX was too few to protect a plantation. Perhaps they had a secondary purpose too, tied to that little hardback book she’d brought back with her from the beach trip, the one she’d never, ever, ever tell anyone else in the squad about—though the thought of Futoshi along with that book just made her feel nauseous.

Flower girl, then. That was a purpose she could make do with.

Soon it would be cold enough outside that snow would fall and the lake in Mistelteinn would freeze over—snowflakes would collect in drifts in the seams between the glass panels that sealed in the warmth of the greenhouse, and the world outside would be gray and lifeless, but as long as she stayed in here and cared for the flowers, the greenhouse would always be full of sweet scents and bright colors.

Almost two years ago, at the edge of winter, Ikuno had come into the greenhouse unprompted, carrying under her arm one of the old textbooks from the dorm library’s enormous collection. She’d shown Kokoro the section she stumbled upon—it was called _The language of Flowers_. They laughed when they discovered that mistletoe—the plant that shared the name of their little habitat, Mistelteinn—signified _looking for a partner_. It was a name on the same level of subtlety as _Kokoro_.

Hibiscus had been Ikuno’s favorite. That was also the last time she could remember seeing Ikuno smile like that.

She paused, passing under one of the pots of pink roses, the color stirring a memory in her brain. There were two shapes moving toward the greenhouse along the narrow forest path; one was black and gray, and the other was dressed in light gray and her hair was the same color as the roses.

Kokoro’s grip on the watering can trembled a little—she was seized by a sudden, panicky, ridiculous impulse to scour the building from top to bottom, to make it presentable for the first pair of visitors that had shown up in months—but before she could move, the glass door creaked open and the little bell at its corner tingled, and Hiro slipped into the greenhouse followed by his pretty partner, and Kokoro felt a little gust of cold air on her back before the door clicked shut again.

“Hi, Kokoro,” said Hiro at once, grinning at her. “I figured you’d be here.”

“Hi, Hiro-kun, Zero Two-chan.”

Zero Two made no motion to greet her. The horned girl was standing in the center of the greenhouse, her eyes half-closed, so still that she could’ve been a statue.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” added Hiro, glancing at the watering can she was still holding. “Sorry about that. Should we come back later?”

“Oh, no, of course not.” She set the can down untidily. “Would you like to sit? There are stools over there.”

“Oh! Thanks.”

Hiro took a seat, gazing at his partner with rapt attention, and Kokoro felt suddenly awkward, as though she’d walked in on something private between the two of them—and at the same time, there was a little twinge of wistfulness in her chest, as she imagined what it must be like to be able to enjoy anything as thoroughly as her two visitors were.

Zero Two stirred then, like a cat waking up from a nap. Her eyes were wide and sparkling as she took in the spread of pastel colors covering the walls and shelves.

“They’re so pretty,” she said in amazement. “Darling said you take care of all the flowers? On your own?”

Behind her, Hiro nodded proudly. Kokoro shifted her feet. “That’s right.”

“What’s your favorite?” demanded Zero Two.

How bizarre it was to be standing here in her little private getaway, while the mysterious pink-haired girl Hiro partnered with, who knew everything about the adults, stared at Kokoro like she was gazing upon the likeness of a goddess. And yet, regardless of how bizarre it might be, someone had asked her about flowers, which meant that the other half of her brain was taking over.

“Here,” she said automatically, rising on tiptoe to tap the side of the pot hanging above her. Zero Two’s eyes followed the motion, again like a cat, with such obvious interest that Kokoro nearly laughed. She lifted the pot off its hangar and set it on the table at the front of their little glass room. “Have you ever seen these?”

“No.” Zero Two was biting her lip. “What are they?”

“Pink roses.” Kokoro beckoned Zero Two closer, and the latter approached cautiously. “Smell them. Aren’t they lovely? And they’re the same color as your hair, Zero Two-chan.”

The horned girl blushed.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice hushed.

“Mmm. They’re my favorite. In the language of flowers, the pink rose means _trust_. That always made me really happy.”

“There’s a language of flowers?” repeated Zero Two in amazement.

“The people on the surface had one. It’s in a book I read.” Kokoro sighed. “I wish I could remember the whole thing.”

For a second, she could empathize with how enthralled Hiro seemed when he looked at his partner. Zero Two was examining every inch of the rose, from every angle, as though she were trying to memorize it perfectly. It was mesmerizing to watch.

“Want to help me water them?” offered Kokoro.

“Can I?”

They were interrupted by a stringent beeping noise. Kokoro glanced back reflexively at the table where she’d left her communicator, but the sound was coming from the other direction. Hiro had pulled his communicator out of his pocket and was squinting at the screen.

“Hey,” he said after a moment, looking up at his partner. “Ichigo needs me for something. Want to help Kokoro with the flowers? I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Okay,” said Zero Two. Still studying the rose, she tilted her head toward Hiro, who stood up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before departing.

Kokoro went to fetch one of the other old watering cans hanging from the rack in the back of the greenhouse and brush the dust off of it. When she handed it to Zero Two, the other girl took hold of the handle as though it were made of glass. She tried not to laugh again. Zero Two in the presence of flowers was disarmingly cute.

“I’ve done all these already,” she said, indicating the quadrant of shelves furthest from the door. “You can start from there and work your way across.”

“Okay,” said Zero Two with anticipation.

“Oh, and you don’t need to drown them. They just need a refreshing drink.” Kokoro smiled to herself. “It doesn’t rain in here, so we’re pretending to be the rainfall.”

“The rainfall,” repeated the other girl in awe. “Okay. I love the rain.”

“Me too.”

“I didn’t even know about rain until I came here,” observed Zero Two. “Darling told me about it.”

“You never saw rain before, Zero Two-chan?”

“Never.” Zero Two shook her head vigorously, the motion traveling down her curtain of hair in a cascade. “I’m so jealous of all of you, getting to grow up in such a beautiful place.”

“Yes.” Kokoro paused, midway through watering a pot of hydrangeas. “What we do really isn’t easy. And it’s frightening sometimes. But I do feel lucky to be able to live here.”

“Darling says we’ll be able to get out of here, and go out and live on the surface one day,” said Zero Two absently. “When that happens, we should grow flowers like this.”

Kokoro paused again. Hiro had really said that? Was he just telling Zero Two something that she needed to hear? A week ago, she would have assumed as much—it had been at least eight years since she’d even entertained the possibility that they would ever be able to inhabit the surface again, as humans of the old world had done—but after their impromptu little meeting in the library, which had been so strange and surreal that she still hadn’t processed any of it, she was starting to wonder if it might be possible after all.

What would life on the surface be like? Did Hiro want to free the squads who protected the other plantations, too? Would the adults come with them? Were there even enough humans still living to run a real society? Would she and the other parasites need to—

_Stop._

_Stop thinking about that. Tell Zero Two about the flowers instead._

As if on cue, Zero Two’s voice floated over to her from the other side of the greenhouse. “Kokoro, what’s this one called?”

“Ooh, good choice.” She crossed the greenhouse to join Zero Two, who was observing a little blossom with a yellow center and spectacular coral-colored leaves. “That’s a zinnia. It’s another one of my favorites. I don’t remember exactly, but I think it means _loyalty_ …it’s been a long time since I read the book.”

“You should put one in your hair,” said the other girl decisively. “The colors would work so well together.”

“You think so?”

It wasn’t until clouds passed over the sun and thick raindrops began to splatter against the glass walls that Kokoro realized how quickly the time was passing. She’d found herself totally disarmed. There had always been an invisible impenetrable line encircling Zero Two, ever since she had come to live with Squad 13, and until now only Hiro had been able to cross it. But the pink-haired girl’s aspect had changed completely; she wasn’t cold and intimidating and distant, but warm and enthusiastic and treating every sentence that came out of Kokoro’s mouth as though it was a statement of divine intelligence. Something—the flowers, probably—had granted the two of them an opening.

Presently they finished the full rotation of the greenhouse—it took several times longer than usual, since Kokoro kept pausing to answer Zero Two’s questions—and retired to the dusty old stools to sit and watch the rain. It was extraordinarily cozy, sitting here in the warmth, surrounded by soft colors and sweet smells and listening to the patter of raindrops on the panes. Zero Two’s head was tilted slightly to the side, and her eyes were lidded. Kokoro wondered whether she was about to drift off to sleep.

“It’s raining,” said Zero Two.

“I wonder if Hiro-kun is done with whatever he needed to do,” said Kokoro. “If he comes back now, though, he’s going to end up soaking wet. I hope he doesn’t catch cold.”

“I’m sure he’ll wait,” said Zero Two. “I don’t mind. Being here is so much fun.”

“I agree.”

“Thanks for telling me about the flowers, Kokoro-chan,” said the other girl, and Kokoro noted the use of the honorific. Zero Two was beaming at her. “Your eyes light up when you do it. I could tell you’ve been waiting for someone to share it with.”

Kokoro blushed and looked away.

“It makes me happy,” continued Zero Two. “Although it’s a little sad that your partner never visits this place. You’d like to share this with him, wouldn’t you?”

Kokoro shook her head. “I’m not really sure. I mean…” She blinked. “Wait, how did you know Futoshi-kun doesn’t come to the greenhouse?”

“I only smell you and Darling and Ichigo here,” said Zero Two, wide-eyed and innocent. “It smells lonely. Even if he doesn’t care about flowers, he could at least come to see you once in awhile.”

“He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

Zero Two blinked and shrugged. “If you say so.”

Was there a hint of judgment behind her eyes? Was the strange horned girl in the perfect happy partnership looking down on Kokoro for not knowing Futoshi as well as she knew her own partner?

“Futoshi-kun is…” Kokoro was casting around for something to say in her partner’s defense. What was there to say about him? “Very kind.”

Zero Two was still looking at her, and she began to feel a stir of discomfort. Restlessly she stood up and moved to the front of the greenhouse for something to do. There was a pot of red spider lily by the door, and she bent under the pretense of examining it. Now the rain was pounding on the glass. Zero Two let out a little sigh.

“I wonder when our next mission is going to be,” said Kokoro idly. “I’m glad we don’t have to fly in rain.”

“Mmm,” said Zero Two, who did not seem to be listening. Apparently Kokoro’s pretense of being busy was entirely wasted on her.

Kokoro shrugged and returned to her seat after a moment. Zero Two’s nose was buried in a book, and in the sudden silence the greenhouse had begun to feel a little awkward and stuffy. Hopefully the rain wouldn’t last much longer. If only she’d bothered to keep umbrellas in here…

She glanced over at Zero Two, and realized that the book she was holding was titled _Your First Childbirth_ , and her heart stopped. She rose so quickly that the stool was sent crashing onto the floor, and she staggered backward a few paces and collided with one of the shelving units. A flowerpot tipped over and dispensed soil all across the worktop, and onto the back of the hand that she’d thrown out to steady to herself. Her heart was pounding so loudly that surely Zero Two could hear it.

After a few seconds of silence, the horned girl turned her eyes from the pages of the book to Kokoro, wearing an expression of mild confusion.

“Are you okay?”

Kokoro opened her mouth, but no words came out. Zero Two’s brow knitted with concern, and she stood and dropped the book on one of the nearest shelves. Kokoro held her breath as the other girl approached her. Too close. Suddenly their faces were six inches apart, and Zero Two’s nostrils were flared—she was smelling something. She cocked her head in confusion.

“What happened?”

Kokoro could not stop her eyes from flicking to the cover of the discarded book on the table, nor could she form words. She could feel color rising in her face. Zero Two’s gaze followed hers. Was she overreacting? Did Zero Two even understand anything that was written in that book? Was she making more of an idiot of herself than she already had done?

“What, the book?” said Zero Two, correctly interpreting her panicked look. “I wondered what that was doing here. Is it yours?”

Kokoro nodded.

Zero Two looked back and forth between her and the book several times, and comprehension dawned on her face slowly.

“Ohhh,” she said at last, cupping her chin with her thumb and forefinger and observing Kokoro closely. “You’re not supposed to have it?”

She shook her head.

“Where’d you get it?” asked Zero Two, sounding slightly interested.

“A-at the…at the library…the one we found near the beach.”

Kokoro could almost hear the cogs turning inside Zero Two’s head.

“P-please don’t—” she started desperately.

“Tell anyone?” said the other girl, and shook her head dismissively. “Why would I do that? It’s your business, not mine.”

Kokoro relaxed marginally. Not that Zero Two seemed trustworthy—rather, she was always so blunt that Kokoro didn’t think she’d be capable of lying about this, nor would she have any interest in doing so.

“Thanks,” she mouthed.

Zero Two shook her head again. “Sit down,” she said bluntly. “You look awful.”

Kokoro righted the stool she’d knocked over and sat on it, her face burning with embarrassment.

“You just startled me,” she mumbled.

“I _did_ think it was strange,” admitted Zero Two, and Kokoro’s stomach churned. “Parasites aren’t supposed to be told about any of that. Darling didn’t even know what sex was.”

It took Kokoro almost ten seconds to process the information given in those two sentences.

“Um…” she said finally, choosing to ignore the implications contained in the latter one. “I’m going to be in trouble, aren’t I?”

Zero Two laughed unexpectedly, and Kokoro looked at her in confusion. The horned girl was beaming at her. “We’re all going to be in trouble if Darling’s plan works.”

“Oh,” whispered Kokoro. “You’re right.”

“But I guess you’d be in a different kind of trouble if you were planning on having children,” remarked Zero Two, looking at the dusty hardcover book again.

“I’m _not_ ,” said Kokoro sharply, and Zero Two twitched in surprise. That had been so much harsher than she intended; she covered her mouth with her hand, looking anywhere but at the confused face of the pink-haired girl sitting next to her.

“What do you want the book for, then?” said Zero Two blankly.

“I don’t.” Her heart was pounding and her insides were all twisting together in anxiety and shame. She was teetering at the breaking point, or perhaps she had passed it already. Zero Two was too good at guessing what people were thinking. There was no use hiding it now; they were both trapped in this little greenhouse together and there was nowhere to go.

Zero Two wasn’t even moving; she was simply looking at Kokoro inquisitively, and those wide innocent turquoise eyes were drawing the confession out of her unbidden.

“I wish I’d never found that book.”

“Why not?”

It occurred to Kokoro then, as she remembered how she’d resolved never to share this secret with anyone, that Zero Two was the person in the world most likely to understand her frustration, because the strange pistil next to her surely knew what it felt like to be treated like a freak.

The thought comforted her, but as it coalesced in her mind she also felt a horrible tug of shame. _That_ sentiment was something she’d be happy never to share with Zero Two.

“There isn’t anything wrong with wanting to have children,” said Zero Two after a moment.

“That’s not it.” How could she possibly explain this?

Zero Two cocked her head to the side in puzzlement again.

“I’m…I’m sure there isn’t,” said Kokoro in a measured voice, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “But something feels _wrong_.”

“What kind of something?”

“I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands. She was not going to cry here, not in front of a pistil she barely knew. Raindrops hammered on the glass. “I’m…I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” said Zero Two, very softly, the rain almost drowning out her voice. Kokoro could see between her fingers that Zero Two’s expression had not changed; she was still watching with polite interest, and Kokoro felt an irresistible compulsion to confess.

“I can’t…stop…thinking about it.” She heard the sentence leave her mouth, and she recoiled. “I don’t have any interest in having children. But…but I can’t stop thinking about that book.” The tears were threatening to come. She was not going to cry here. “Ever since I found it, I’ve been dreaming about having a baby. I’ve been thinking about how I’d want to decorate her room, what I’d like to teach her when she grows older, what I’d name her…”

Zero Two looked pained.

“But I don’t want that!” said Kokoro in anguish. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m the one having these thoughts. It’s like they’re coming from somewhere else. Like someone else put them inside my head. I’m so afraid, Zero Two-chan. What’s wrong with me?”

A shadow passed over the other girl’s face, and Kokoro felt an icy pit in her stomach. Clearly the confession meant something more to her than it did to Kokoro, and she was not sure she wanted to know what it was.

“I need to snap out of it,” she mumbled through her fingers, trying to cut off Zero Two before the expression on her face was translated into words that would make Kokoro feel more intense shame than she already did. “I need someone to knock some sense into me. But I don’t know how. I can’t tell anybody. Tell me I’m being stupid, please, Zero Two-chan.”

Zero Two made a slight motion, a twitch, as though she were preventing herself from reaching out toward Kokoro. Perhaps to comfort her? Kokoro was grateful that the other girl controlled herself. Her mouth was set in a thin line; Kokoro had expected her to look disgusted, but on the contrary, she looked for some reason fierce and defiant.

“I’m not going to,” said Zero Two finally.

“But—”

“It isn’t your fault,” said the strange pistil, with the very slightest undertone of a growl in her voice. For one blessed moment she had stopped spearing Kokoro with her unbearable stare. It had been like being under a spotlight.

“Okay,” said Kokoro numbly.

“I’ll tell you a secret, too. We’ll be even.”

“Oh.” She was not sure if she wanted to be let in on what Zero Two considered a secret. “Okay.”

“You can keep a secret, right?” said Zero Two, looking back at her, her eyes flashing.

“Of…of course I can.”

“It’s important.”

“Of course,” repeated Kokoro. “It won’t leave this room.”

“Good.”

Zero Two swiveled in her seat until she was facing away from Kokoro towards the outside. Kokoro could see the branches and leaves of trees blowing in the wind of the little rainstorm that had descended upon them. The pink hair of the girl sitting in front of her, contrasted against the grayness of outside, was strangely bright, and her form looked smaller than usual.

When Zero Two finally spoke, Kokoro had to strain to hear it.

“After I fly with Darling one more time,” she said, “I’ll never see him again.”

_How long do you think you can keep this up?_

The stupid little book had, for some reason, a diagram of a couple in bed. It was like a picture book—cartoonish, almost comical. But regardless of how stupid it was, the image had expanded to fill her entire mind and now all she could think of was _that night_ with Darling after they had completed their third flight, his strong scent and the steely look in his eyes, how they went on and on and on without _stop it stop it stop it_. Kokoro wasn’t the only person who was having thoughts put into her head.

The walls of the greenhouse were pressing in on her suddenly. Her chest was tight, and her lungs wouldn’t fill with oxygen. The bars that separated the panes of glass around her were like the rungs of a birdcage. It was hot and smothering and all the smells were mixing together and overwhelming her senses and becoming painful. She stood and strode towards the door and shoved it open.

“Um…” said Kokoro nervously. “Zero Two-chan? It’s still raining.”

 _But if it’s fun,_ said the voice in her head, _there’s nothing wrong with it, right?_

_There has to be something wrong with it if it was the doctor’s idea._

The air outside was cool and the chatter of the rainfall filled her ears.

“Zero Two-chan,” repeated Kokoro.

“I have to go.” Her own voice sounded cold and stiff. “Thanks.”

“Please don’t leave the door op—”

The greenhouse door slammed shut, and the moment Zero Two had cleared the curve in the forest path beyond which the trees would conceal her, she broke into a run. Thick icy raindrops were beating a rhythm on the top of her head. It was a cold and sharp and beautiful sensation. The sound of it was too loud for her to be able to think, which at this point was precisely what she needed.

“And there you have it, Nana dear.”

With his face half concealed by prosthetics, it was normally difficult to tell what the doctor was thinking, but Nana did not think she had ever seen a smugger expression on anyone’s face.

“I can’t believe you.”

“It’s the curse of genius,” said Frank happily. The man was like an excited schoolboy. “Nobody gets me, until I’m right. It’s poetry in motion, isn’t it? They’re by far the finest batch of parasites we’ve ever produced.”

“You can’t be serious. They’re all going to get killed.”

“Well, the candle with the shortest wick burns brightest.”

“The what?”

“Ah. Apologies, it’s an old human idiom, Nana dear.”

“Please stop calling me _dear_ , Doctor.”

The old man snorted. “I see APE didn’t manage to breed that rebellious streak out of you.”

“Says the man gambling the lives of nine of their finest parasites on a hunch.”

“Moralizing, Nana? After this long?” There was a hint of derision in the doctor’s tone. “Remind me, how many parasites have you watched die?”

“That’s—that’s not—”

“Oh, spare me.” Frank held up his mechanical hand and swiveled in his chair to look back at the screen he’d been watching for the last thirty minutes. “If all you have left to say is complaints, you can go.”

“No. There’s one more thing.”

The biological eye turned and rested on her. “Yes?”

Nana steeled herself. “I have a request. Whatever you’re planning to do, just…delay it by two days.”

“Two days?” The clatter of keys on the doctor's keyboard paused. “I assume there’s some significance to that number.”

“Tomorrow is Gifting Day.”

“Ah. You’re that fond of them now, are you?”

“So is that a yes?”

Frank stopped typing entirely and rubbed his chin for a long moment, deep in thought.

“Whatever you like,” he said finally. “A treat for Squad 13, eh? Well, God knows they’re going to need it.”

* * *

Hiro, who was having an odd dream, was wakened by a sweet scent and a sudden weight on his chest, and when he opened his eyes it was to discover his partner perched on top of him like an inquisitive bird.

“Darling,” she said immediately, the moment his eyes opened. “There’s something going on downstairs.”

“Mmph,” replied Hiro, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying for a moment to sit up before realizing it was a lost cause. “What?”

“Let’s go,” she urged him. “I want to see.”

“What time is it?” he asked blankly. The room was still dark, though the cold blue light of predawn was filtering through the window. “Did something happen?”

“It’s morning,” said Zero Two unhelpfully.

“What’s happening downstairs?”

“I don’t know, but everyone’s already up. Can’t you hear them?”

He strained to listen, but even though the room was silent, it seemed he did not have Zero Two’s capability to hear noises being made on the other side of the dorm a floor apart from them.

“Let’s go,” said Zero Two again.

The air was chilly and the hardwood was cold on his bare feet, so he pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks and followed after Zero Two, who was almost bouncing up and down with curiosity. Voices _were_ audible through the closed living room door as they approached it, even though it couldn’t be later than six in the morning. What was happening?

Comprehension dawned on him as soon as they entered. The other parasites were all clustered together in the center of the room, some resting on the couches and some kneeling on the floor, around the low table atop which sat an untidy array of boxes wrapped in brightly colored paper and ribbon. Hiro felt a sudden unexpected rush of excitement.

“Happy Gifting Day!” said Ichigo happily, waving at the pair of them from where she sat. There were two opened boxes lying discarded at her feet and she was clutching an enormous stuffed teddy bear.

“Hi,” said Hiro, grinning with excitement. “Happy Gifting Day.”

Goro and Kokoro waved to him too. Zorome had inserted the entire upper half of his body into a large box full of tissue paper and did not seem to have seen them, and Miku was saying something to him that Hiro couldn’t make out.

“We just got started,” said Goro, gesturing to the pile of boxes that was still mostly intact. “Get a seat. Happy Gifting Day, Zero Two.”

Zero Two, for some reason, looked uncharacteristically timid. For a moment Hiro thought she was going to hide behind him or even flee from the room. Well, he knew that she didn’t like crowds, but…

“You okay?” he murmured. “Want to go outside for a bit?”

“I’m fine. What’s Gifting Day?”

“Once a year, we can send letters to Papa asking for things we want.” He inclined his head at the boxes. “On this specific day, someone delivers them.”

“For things you want?” repeated Zero Two, dumbstruck. “You just ask?”

He took her hand and pulled her toward the open spot on the end of the furthest couch, where there was space enough for both of them. “Happy Gifting Day!” said Futoshi as they passed him, offering Hiro two chocolates wrapped in paper from a box that he was already a third of the way through. Hiro passed one to his partner, who accepted it tentatively.

“Zero Two, you didn’t know about Gifting Day? It was my favorite day growing up.”

She shook her head wordlessly. Her gaze shifted to the pile of boxes on the table as they sat, but she looked unfocused; he wasn’t sure that she was seeing them at all. Zero Two’s momentary burst of excitement seemed to have vanished as quickly as it came. Something about the little gathering was making her upset, but it wasn’t just that she didn’t like crowds. She’d been moody and withdrawn yesterday, too, hugging herself as she sat in almost exactly that same spot during the meeting he’d called, and he felt a tinge of discomfort in his chest conflicting with the warm and cozy excitement that the morning of Gifting Day always brought.

He remembered, then, that when Doctor Frank had told them that he was leaving and assigning Zero Two to Squad 13 indefinitely, she had told Hiro she was happy about it, and she had been lying. Perhaps there was something bearing down on them that was so frightening she didn’t even dare talk about it. Or perhaps—though he knew he was reaching with this one—she was preoccupied over something inconsequential, something that her unique internal barometer was mistakenly treating as extremely important.

Well, regardless of what the problem was, both of them dwelling on it wasn’t going to make Zero Two feel any better. He smiled at her and unwrapped the chocolate he was holding and motioned for her to do the same. It had an almond on top and a cream filling. He was relieved to see his partner blush with delight at the taste. Zero Two loved sweet things.

“I’m going to make cocoa,” announced Ichigo to nobody in particular, as Hiro tore off the wrapping of the single box that was addressed to him. “Everyone wants a mug, right?”

There was a chorus of affirmatives from everyone except Zero Two, who was still staring off into the distance. Ichigo looked at Hiro questioningly, and he nodded and held up two fingers.

“I’ll help,” offered Ikuno, also standing up.

“Cheers!” said Futoshi with enthusiasm. “Can I get two, actually?”

“No.”

Goro snorted.

“What’s that?” asked Zero Two suddenly, nudging Hiro in the ribs, her eyes fixed on the cover of the book he’d removed from his gift box: a handsome hardback volume with the title _Field Guide to Birds_ printed in block capitals above a picture of a fierce-eyed owl.

“Oh, yeah, I completely forgot I asked for this.”

“Is that a picture book?” inquired Zero Two with interest.

“This? No, it’s a field guide. It has illustrations, but it’s more like an encyclopedia. Back when these birds lived on the surface, humans used guides like this to identify them.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“Do you like picture books? There’s a whole section of them in the library. I’ll show you later, if you want.”

“No…it’s fine.”

Hiro shrugged. A rattling sound from the couch next to them drew his attention to Goro, who was hunched over in intense concentration and fiddling with some wood-grained cube-shaped object.

“What’d you get?”

“Check this out,” said Goro, straightening up and raising the little object so that it caught the light. It was, Hiro saw, formed out of a dozen or so interlocking wooden pieces, which fit smoothly together in a geometric pattern. “It’s like, a puzzle? I’m trying to take it apart.”

“You don’t know what it is?” said Hiro in mild amusement.

“Nah.” Goro grinned widely, so suddenly that Hiro wondered if he hadn’t meant to do it. “Ichigo got this for me. Isn’t it cool?”

Hiro thought he detected Zero Two perk up. At the very least, her eyes weren’t unfocused anymore; she was staring intently at the object in Goro’s hand.

“Wanna try it?” offered Goro. Zero Two nodded, and he tossed it to her. She snatched it out of the air, with a whip-like motion that reminded Hiro of a time he had watched a frog by the lake catch a fly in its mouth.

“Did you get her anything?” asked Hiro in an undertone, glancing at the door to ensure Ichigo wasn’t in danger of coming back early.

The tall stamen let out a deep sigh in response. “I kind of paralyzed myself with indecision, to be honest. I mean, I know she likes stuffed animals and sweets and stuff. But this year I wanted to choose something that was more…special? And I spent all night last week trying to decide on something good, and I couldn’t think of anything.” Goro characteristically scratched the back of his neck and displayed a sheepish grin. “What a waste, right? She’d be happy with any gift as long as my heart was in it.”

“Maybe you can do something for her instead?” suggested Hiro. “It’s too late to get something, but it’s Gifting Day all day.”

Goro scratched his chin. Soft clacking noises came from the puzzle block that Zero Two was experimenting with.

“I like the idea,” he said after a moment of consideration. “Any suggestions? I don’t want to offer to do her chores or anything like that. I mean, it’s not that I mind chores, but that would be such a lame present.”

“Yeah…”

The clacking ceased abruptly. Hiro glanced down at Zero Two’s lap and saw with surprise that she had completely disassembled the cube. She was twirling two of the thin wooden pieces between her fingers, looking idly interested. Goro whistled.

“That was quick.”

“At this point, I’m convinced that Zero Two is an expert at everything,” said Hiro. She shook her head slightly, like she was trying to scare off an annoying bug.

“Including presents?” said Goro, reaching out his hand to take the puzzle block back from Zero Two. Her fingers deftly reassembled it and she placed it back in Goro’s palm. “Zero Two, you have any ideas on what a good present would be?”

“A present?” said Zero Two blankly. Her gaze was faraway again. “I’d like to have snow.”

“Snow. Okay…hmm. I’m not sure that’s quite…”

“You can’t make it snow, can you?” said Zero Two in the same tone. “Well, I also want Darling to touch me. I’d like him to—”

Hiro cleared his throat loudly.

“Got it,” said Goro hastily, his ears rapidly turning pink. “Thanks, I’ll keep your suggestions in mind.”

“Darling,” said Zero Two suddenly, ignoring Goro’s response completely. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Yeah, of course.” His heartrate jumped.

She stood up and seized him by the hand and pulled him toward the door leading to the entrance hall. Goro waved bemusedly at Hiro as he passed, and Hiro shrugged in response.

Zero Two wanted to see him in private? Well, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to predict what that usually meant. His heart was thumping, even if unease was still bubbling in his stomach. She didn’t seem as excited as she’d normally be in this situation—

They almost collided with Ichigo at the foot of the stairs. Ikuno was tailing her, and both were clutching four mugs each of steaming hot cocoa.

“Sorry!” said Hiro, in response to Ichigo’s confused look. “Thanks! We’ll come back down and have it in a bit.”

The bedroom was as chilly as they’d left it, as the cracked-open window was letting in cold air from outside. Goosebumps rose on Hiro’s skin as Zero Two shut the door behind them, though he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the temperature. She did not go and sit on the bed, or start kissing him, or any of the things he had expected her to do. Had she literally meant she wanted to ask him a question? But no question seemed forthcoming, either. She simply stood there in the middle of the room, looking forlorn and lost and staring up at the skylight instead of meeting his eyes.

After several seconds, during which Zero Two looked utterly miserable, Hiro decided to break the silence.

“Something’s been bothering you, hasn’t it?”

Zero Two took a very deep breath and drew herself up to her full height, and fixed him with a penetrating look. Her irises were perhaps more beautiful than they had ever been before. The intensity of her stare was frightening, even for him, though that was one of the things he loved most about her. Her horns had grown even longer. How had he not noticed before?

“I need a favor,” said Zero Two. She hadn’t looked this awkward since he’d made her apologize to the girls about the bathroom prank.

Hiro nodded. “Sure, anything.”

When she spoke again, it sounded like the words caused her physical pain. “I’d…I’d like to have sex.”

Hiro briefly wondered how many more times in the next minute he was going to make an assumption that was immediately proven spectacularly wrong. But the request was so ordinary and yet the situation was so bizarre that he knew it couldn’t have been the only reason she brought him up here.

“Okay,” he said, trying to sound encouraging. “I would, too. Is there anything else bothering you?”

A spasm passed through her determined expression for a fraction of a millisecond; glass that was in danger of breaking.

“A-and after that, I…I think…we can’t pilot together anymore.”

_There. I said it._

Darling did not look disappointed, or sad, or even angry. Of course he didn’t—any of those three emotions would have been so much easier to process and understand and ignore. He simply looked dumbfounded, like she was speaking a different language, or like she was asking him to sprout wings and fly into space. Why couldn’t he have just been angry? Why couldn’t he blow up at her and shout at her and call her names, like she well deserved, and then she’d have an excuse to turn on her heel in a huff and leave the room and then never see him again? Why did this have to be as difficult as humanly possible?

Each second was excruciating now. She dared not break the silence.

“O-okay,” stammered Darling eventually. It seemed that he had temporarily forgotten how to speak. All the color had drained out of his face. Perhaps he was going to pass out. Zero Two certainly thought she was going to. “Um…o-of course we can.”

_That’s it?_

The mental image that had continuously been replaying in her mind since she’d read that stupid book yesterday was now so vivid that she might be starting to hallucinate. Perhaps if he touched her—would that make it better? And at the same time, the other half of her wanted very badly to run away as fast as she could.

His brain was moving at a snail’s pace. He might have been submerged in water. Were they back at the lake again? How strange. His head was pounding with sudden unbearable pain.

“Okay,” mouthed Zero Two. The edges of her eyelids were brilliant red. It was painful to look at, but Hiro didn’t want to avert his gaze. This might be the last time he saw them from this close up. “Thanks.”

“Is there something I did to—”

_Stop talking, you pathetic little coward. You want it to be your fault, don’t you, so you can make amends? And when that doesn’t work, and you say goodbye to her for the last time, you can think to yourself, “Well, I did my best. It’s her loss anyway.” You know exactly what you’re putting her through by asking that question, you fucking weasel._

He cut himself off. Zero Two opened her mouth to say something, but Hiro interrupted her, even though he did not like to interrupt Zero Two.

“Never mind,” he said, his mouth so dry that it felt like it was full of sand. “You don’t have to tell me why. I know this is hard enough for you as it is.”

Her lower lip trembled. The glass was about to shatter. “D-Darling, I’m going to cry.”

“Yeah. So am I.” She was standing there in the middle of the room, hugging herself tightly with her arms like Ikuno often did, her face burning with shame and her eyes not meeting his own. Perhaps he had looked this pathetic, too, when they had almost said goodbye for the first time, before he’d gone and rescued her and broken into the hangar. His skin had crackled with electricity then and his body had surged with power at the prospect of losing Zero Two. Only now, rather than a faceless nameless APE entity being the one to decree that they had to be forced apart, it was his partner herself. He felt hollow.

He took a step closer to Zero Two. She twitched when he approached, and her nostrils flared—but then, seeming to understand, she bowed her head forward slightly and closed her eyes, and he kissed her forehead just under her fringe of pink hair that always smelled so sweet, between her glowing ruby-red horns which grew longer and sharper and more beautiful each and every day, above her eyes with the thick eyelashes that had tips as fine as spider’s silk.


	10. Snowfall

Kokoro was having a good idea. That didn’t happen very often, at least in her opinion, so she was holding back considerable excitement.

The door’s hinges creaked, and Ichigo and Ikuno filed into the cozy living room a moment later, all four of their hands overfull with clinking mugs of steaming cocoa. They made a beeline for her, looking a little frantic as they finally plunked the mugs down on the tabletop. Ichigo looked a bit disheveled.

“Ow!” hissed Ikuno, and she put the second knuckle of her pointer finger in her mouth. “Damn it. I spilled it on me.”

“Um, why didn’t you bring a tray?”

The rich smell of cocoa had begun to permeate the room; Zorome discarded one of the boxes whose contents he had been inspecting and came to collect his mug.

“I told you we should’ve used a tray,” said Ikuno. “It’s actually a miracle that we didn’t break anything.”

“It’s freezing in the kitchen,” confided Ichigo to Kokoro as the remaining three parasites clustered around the table, attracted to the hot cocoa like moths to flame. “I forgot to put socks on. Also, I’m lazy, and there’s only nine of us, so I figured it would be faster just to carry them all.”

“It _was_ faster,” admitted Ikuno, sinking onto the sofa next to Kokoro. She raised her own mug to her lips, then paused.

Ichigo gave her a questioning look. “What?”

“We forgot the whipped cream, too.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

Ikuno shivered and raised her knees up to her chest. “Ugh. It’s way too cozy in here. I don’t want to go back out and get it. Give me two minutes.”

“I can do it.”

“Ahh.” Ikuno sighed in profound relief. “You’re the best, Kokoro.”

“No problem. Did you two see where Hiro-kun went? I need to ask him something.”

“Hiro?” Ichigo blinked sleepily. “Yeah, those two ran upstairs. They’re probably in the attic.”

“Thanks.” She rose. “Be back in a minute.”

Kokoro had already made it to the landing at the head of the stairs in the entrance hall before it sank in that Hiro and Zero Two had left the “party” and gone back up to the attic together. Well, that could only mean one thing, surely: that they’d rejoin the others in ten minutes, and both would somehow seem a little out-of-breath, and Zero Two would have pink patches on her cheeks and her hair would look a little messy. She froze momentarily as the image popped into her head.

 _Okay…never mind._ Her idea of a good Gifting Day present for Zero Two could wait. _That_ was the last thing she wanted to walk in on. She turned, to descend the stairs and make for the kitchen, to fetch the whipped cream that Ikuno had asked for, when the creak of footsteps on hardwood sounded.

It was a single pair of footsteps. There was an untidy-haired boy’s silhouette approaching the head of the stairs, and he was alone. Thank Papa! It was almost impossible to prize those two apart. Kokoro had even half wondered if Zero Two was going to be jealous of Hiro speaking to her in private.

“Hiro-kun!” she whisper-shouted at him, not wanting to alert Zero Two in case she was following behind. “Do you have a second? And where’s Zero Two-chan? Is she still upstai—”

Who was the stamen coming to a halt there in front of her?

He was wearing Hiro’s clothes and Hiro’s hair, but his skin was pale and ghostly and his eyes were looking through her, past her, seeing nothing. Eyes a thousand miles deep; a nightgown draped forlornly over a lifeless frame. It was a shell. Was there a human inside that? There couldn’t be.

“Hiro-kun?” she inquired. She found that, though she didn’t feel frightened, her voice was shaking.

The blank eyes, focusing past her, shifted onto her face and rested there. The pale lips moved finally. “Morning.”

Something was horribly wrong.

“Um, where’s Zero Two-chan?”

His lips were moving again, forming the words _Zero Two_ in silence, for several seconds after Kokoro had spoken.

“Oh, her,” he said finally. Like he’d momentarily forgotten. “Zero Two’s leaving.”

Hours later, the sun rose on a Mistelteinn which was two parasites lighter than it had been a week ago.

They didn’t bother looking for Zero Two. The window in the attic room had been left open, and there were only two signs she had ever been in the dorm at all: a nightgown discarded on the bed, and a smashed mirror in the girls’ room. Her only possession—the red uniform—was gone along with her.

* * *

_“Hiro! Hiro, I came back! Look! Are you proud of me?”_

_I show him the yellow bandage on my upper arm. I expected him to be happy I was okay, but he only looks confused._

_“I was so scared, and the injection hurt a lot, too.” I’m talking too fast. My arm is still throbbing, even though it’s been two days. I don’t know if Hiro’s keeping up with me. “But look, I’m okay! Now we can do what you promised!”_

_“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t remember. Did I promise something?”_

_My chest hurts._

Mitsuru lay motionless in bed, his heart thumping, drops of sweat sliding down his face, staring up at the featureless gray ceiling high above him. Nothing had changed. It was eight years soon, or it had been already, and he was still having the same dream.

_Kids forget things and break promises. They don’t know any better._

Kids forget to stop playing and come to the table in time for dinner. They break the promise they made to clean their room before bed.

_You can’t blame him. He was a kid._

But it wasn’t something that anyone should have been able to forget.

It was funny how little it took. It’d only taken Hiro eight words to make him understand that it was wrong to trust people. Five seconds for the silent masked nurse to stick him with that little needle that had rearranged his insides for a day, and then changed the numbers that Papa and the rest used to figure out whether your life was worth preserving or not. A footful of ash and a few minor cosmetic burns to make them decide that, no, maybe this three-digit loser doesn’t deserve to be in the squad after all, since he isn’t Hiro. Mitsuru wasn’t dumb enough to think that attacking Hiro was how he’d ended up here, not after what Zero Two had done to _him_ in the cockpit.

The door hissed open and there were footfalls on the carpet. The nurse again. She was a spindly woman with a slight smile on her lips, like what Nana had. Mitsuru liked her, a bit. She was the only other person besides him who seemed to understand how stupid this whole thing was.

“Good morning, 326.”

“Morning, huh. I’ll take your word for it.” There were no windows in this room.

“Did you sleep well?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame,” said the nurse gently.

“How much longer are they going to keep me alive?”

She smiled dutifully at his customary little joke. “I couldn’t tell you, 326. Have some breakfast.”

Mitsuru took the tray she’d offered him. “Thanks. This stuff tastes like clay.”

“It’s a blend of plant protein, fiber, and vitamin supp—”

“I know what it is.”

It was like a block of egg white, but he ate the entire thing. He was hungry, even if the food here was pitiful compared to the meals they were given in Mistelteinn. It tasted the way that all the masked adults and all the identical white corridors looked. All uniform. If he stayed in this facility long enough—wherever they _had_ taken him—he thought the environment was likely to transform him into a copy of them. Pale and blank and expressionless.

“Do you like the food here?” Mitsuru was not particularly interested in her answer, but the silence was uncomfortable. An image of the golden-brown dinner rolls that they often had with meals at the dorm had suddenly popped into his head.

Considering that it was meaningless small talk, her answer was taking longer than he expected. He glanced at the nurse. Her smile had faded. It seemed that she was having trouble figuring out how to reply.

“That’s a strange question,” she said.

“Why?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

“Well, food is for parasites.”

“Huh? Don’t adults eat?”

“We don’t.”

“That’s depressing.”

“You were just complaining about the taste, 326,” she reminded him.

“Sure, but the food in Mistelteinn is delicious,” he retorted. “Not my fault.”

“Mistelteinn? Ah, that’s right. You were with the experimental squad, weren’t you?”

Mitsuru took a resentful drink of water. The water was lukewarm and a little sweet. It almost made him gag. They must’ve put something in it. It made his chest hurt again.

“So everyone knows about us—I mean, about Squad 13?”

“Well, of course. Everyone’s very interested to see what becomes of you all.” She’d finally stopped staring at him, and she was studying the display on the wall to his left; at least he thought she was, though the mask made it impossible to tell. “I’ve read some of Doctor Frank’s papers, you know. To think that what should be an evolutionary step backward would yield such incredible progress in the parasite program.”

He was only half listening. “An evolutionary step backward? You mean the partner system?”

“Exactly right.”

He took another sip. The warm water was getting a bit easier to stomach. “The partner system is bullshit anyway.”

“I can’t imagine,” said the nurse. “You had to coexist with another person every hour of the day, didn’t you? I’d find that exhausting.”

“But you do this job,” observed Mitsuru.

“That’s true. Though, to be fair, my other patients are very young children, so conversations with them are never complicated. You could say you’re—forgive me for saying this—a subject of interest.”

“You don’t take care of other parasites?”

The nurse gave him another odd half-smile. “You’re a strange one, 326.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Other parasites? There are none.”

“You mean…?“

“Hundreds of children have left this place since it was built, but you’re the only one who’s ever come back.”

* * *

“Take me back to the Nines.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I want to go back.”

“Even if I _could_ convince the council to let you—and I can’t—it would run the risk of reversing the progress we’ve made. _All_ of it, Code 002.”

“So?” Zero Two’s fists were curling and uncurling spasmodically. “Big deal. I’ll do it over again.”

“Use your brain,” Frank said coldly. “I hate to have to remind you _again_ , but we made an agreement, Code 002, and if you decide to break it, all bets are off the table. I won’t be able to guarantee that you can see your, ah, ‘darling’ again. And you’re on thin ice as it is—I strongly recommend that you go back to Code 016 and—”

“If you try to make me go back and see him again, I’m going to pull that metal jaw out of your skull.”

Frank waved away the threat with an impatient hand. “Spare me the grandstanding. I’ve been very clear on what the council is asking of you. As I said, I strongly recommend—”

“What’s grandstanding?” said Zero Two blankly, her pale face skull-like as she stared at him.

Some things never change. The doctor almost laughed. “Grandstanding? You need to read more books, 002.”

“Oh.”

The pink-haired girl stepped forward and her arm shot out like a striking snake and seized him by the neck with a vicelike grip. His boots left the floor. She was lifting him into the air with one hand as if he was light as a feather, and her fingers were digging painfully into his skin. Had his trachea still been made of cartilage, it would’ve been crushed to the dimensions of a toothpick. Her eyes were glowing. There was an unstable glint in them that was irresistibly reminding him of a face he had looked into many years ago. Oh, God above!

“I won’t make any empty threats,” said Zero Two, her tone still unchanging. “I’ll do what you say as long as I get to see _my_ Darling again. If you’re lying to me about him, or if you tell me to go back and pilot with 016, I’m going to kill you.”

“Put—put me down,” he rasped. It was all he could muster the energy to say. He was trying—unsuccessfully—with his cybernetic hand to prize her grip off of him. The prosthetic was easily capable of crushing a block of concrete between its fingers, but Zero Two did not give any indication that she even noticed the resistance. After a second, she dropped him, and he landed unevenly and thudded on the tile floor. Frank gagged, the searing pain spreading from his neck up to his temples and down to his shoulders. It had already begun to bruise. He reached into his coat and depressed a concealed button. Not that sounding the alarm would do any good now. If Zero Two had wanted to kill him, it would have been over in an instant—but she still needed him. Even in her fury, she was thinking rationally. His heart swelled with pride.

“You’re supposed to be stronger than most humans, aren’t you?” said Zero Two impassively. “Because of all that metal, right? Darli—016 is twice as strong as you are, and I still had to hold back so I wouldn’t hurt him. I’m done holding back. It didn’t help anyway.”

A clatter of boots out in the hallway, and the door to the little office hissed open. It had been about fifteen seconds. You had to hand it to APE; whatever their faults, they were, at the least, very punctual.

“Doctor?” said the first of two identical masked guards, taking a tentative half-step forward and stopping short when he saw Zero Two. It was evident at once from his body language that he’d been privy to the rumors about the cold-blooded pink-haired girl with the horns. “Is everything all right?”

The guard’s hand was creeping perhaps unconsciously toward the holster on his hip. Zero Two was staring at it. She was tensing in preparation to move. Frank had seen her that way many times before.

“My mistake,” coughed Frank, shooing the two of them away. “Everything’s fine. Minor misunderstanding. You may leave.”

“Understood,” replied the guard, giving him a curt nod. “We’ll get out of your way, then.”

Zero Two seemed a little disappointed as she watched the guards withdraw, the door closing behind them.

* * *

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. I can’t bear to watch him. Do you think Nana can help, Ichigo-chan?”

“Nobody can help him right now.” Ichigo stared at the closed door which led from the dining room to the entrance hall. “He’s put up his wall again.”

The silver-haired girl’s soft, sad eyes were downcast. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

The nail marks on Ichigo’s palm were red and sore. It wasn’t like her to form a nervous tic—the worst she’d done before now was compulsively take out her hair clip and put it back in, over and over and over again. Why did everyone always have to be talking about Hiro? His had been the only name on everyone’s lips since the previous morning—even Argentea’s pilots and Ikuno, who normally kept to themselves. Why was the whole squad obsessed with him?

 _Obsessed._ She’d used that word in her head just now. She had to laugh at the irony, almost. _Who’s the obsessed one?_

Ichigo wanted to be angry at him, to resent him, to hate him. They both knew now that she’d been right all along, and that he was just too stubborn to listen. It was the squad leader’s job to pick him back up and dust him off and put that fire back in his eyes. But she couldn’t do it. In the few brief moments that she’d seen Hiro’s face between yesterday morning and now, it had just made her want to cry.

“What are we going to do if we get assigned another mission?” added Kokoro in a hushed voice, although the dining room was quiet enough that everyone would be able to hear her anyway.

“We’ll fly, just like we always do.”

Miku was picking unenthusiastically at the slice of chicken breast on her plate. Not hearing her argue with Zorome, or indeed talk much at all, was almost the most unsettling part of the whole ordeal.

“Pisses me off,” she said moodily.

“What does?” asked Ichigo automatically.

“Dunno. Zero Two left and now everything feels fucked up. And I didn’t even _like_ her that much.” Miku stabbed the chicken breast with her fork. “I mean, I guess she got better as time went on. Once we officially welcomed her into Squad 13 and everything. But those two were in their own little world anyway. So it shouldn’t affect me at all. But it does. You know what I mean?”

Kokoro sighed very deeply. Ichigo nodded.

“It’s gonna be hard to pilot, even if we have to.” Miku stabbed the chicken breast again. “Zero Two didn’t even want to be part of the squad at all, and now it feels like she’s interfering with _my_ life. Pisses me off.”

“What do you think they’re going to do with Hiro?” said Ichigo.

The clinking of utensils at the other table stopped.

“Keep him around?” shrugged Miku. “That’s what they did with him after Naomi w—”

“Don’t.”

Apropos of nothing, Kokoro had started crying.

“Sorry,” mumbled the red-haired girl, staring down at her plate. “I miss her too.”

“If Hiro-kun was…was right about that crazy plan he had…”

“There was no chance in hell,” said Ikuno quietly.

“I know,” whispered Kokoro. “I know. But he was so confident. He believed it could work. I wonder if he only believed that because Zero Two-chan was next to him.”

“See?” said Miku. “What did I say? This sucks.”

Ichigo shook her head. “He never needed Zero Two for that. Hiro would be able to pull that off alone. That was the kind of thing he’d try in Garden. He—”

“We’re not _in_ Garden anymore, Ichigo,” said Miku flatly. “And Hiro isn’t the kid he was back then. That was eight years ago.” She took a tiny bite out of the corner of the chicken breast and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Maybe that’s why this is pissing me off. It’s like whatever they did to him back then is happening again. It’s like…like Zero Two brought the old Hiro back, for a little bit.”

Ichigo shoved her chair back and stood up.

“Where are you going, Ichigo-chan?”

“I’m going to talk to him.”

“Oh.” Kokoro blinked twice. “Okay. Good luck!”

“Yeah, good luck,” added Miku bitterly.

The warmth of the first floor was left behind as Ichigo climbed the stairs. Perhaps someone had left their bedroom windows open. Each day was getting colder now, and what she could see of the sky outside was marble-white, a solid surface of clouds. It matched the mood well enough. Hiro was up here, alone, hiding from the rest of his squad…as was tradition.

All the children had lived close together in Garden, in big warm comfortable rooms with soft pastel walls. Sometimes Ichigo missed that. Perhaps, even after they’d grown up, this lonely old dorm was still too big for them. The floorboards creaked as she walked over them. It was very cold already, and colder still in the narrow staircase that led up to the attic room.

Only the untidy fringe of Hiro’s hair was visible under the bed covers, and if it hadn’t been, one could be forgiven for thinking that he had vanished into thin air like his partner had done. He didn’t react to the sound of the door opening, or of her footsteps. Maybe he was sleeping.

“Hiro?”

Her own voice sounded faint to her in the silence of the attic room. No answer. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, as Ikuno had done on Ichigo’s own bed barely two days ago. Ichigo wondered if she looked as forlorn now as the other pistil had.

Hiro turned over sluggishly in response to her weight on the bed. A moment later he reached up and pulled the covers down. He should have been flushed from the heat trapped under the covers as he slept, but his face was bone-white, and heavy bags the color of bruises had formed under his eyes in barely more than a day. He looked more than exhausted. Something about it reminded Ichigo of Mitsuru’s face, once he had woken up after his ill-fated attempt to pilot with Zero Two.

“Sorry,” she said automatically, in a very quiet voice, as the leaves of the tree outside the still-open window rustled in the wind. “I woke you up, didn’t I? I’ll let you rest.”

He rubbed his tired eyes with his knuckles. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

 _How are you holding up?_ she wanted to say, out of courtesy, but her first glance at his face had confirmed her suspicion that it would have been a very stupid question. At least he was still here, in the dorm, safe. At least he was still willing to talk to her, unlike the Hiro that had surfaced once everyone had said goodbye to Naomi, even if he looked more exhausted now than he had then.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” she offered gently. “Everyone is really worried about you.”

“I don’t have anything useful to say.”

“You’re important to us. To me. It doesn’t matter if it’s useful or not. If it’s on your mind, it matters.”

“Thanks, Ichigo.”

Ichigo reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, which he’d rested on top of the covers. “I mean it. You’re not alone, Hiro.”

“I know I’m not alone,” he said, and his voice cracked. “But it feels like I am.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.”

“I can’t sleep. Whenever I close my eyes, I see Zero Two. We slept in this bed together, and now I’m alone. It still smells like her, too. It makes me sick, but I’m too tired to move. If I sit up, my head starts spinning.”

Ichigo gritted her teeth in discomfort and looked away from his pale face, toward the white sky visible outside the window. It wasn’t like she had any right to say _I told you so_ —before her disappearance, everyone in Squad 13 had begun to warm up to Zero Two, as Ichigo thought she had to them.

“I’m here for you,” she said, after a moment. “We’ll get through it together. I’ll sit with you, if you like. I can read to you, too, if it helps take your mind off things. Like you did with me when we were in Garden, remember?”

“Did I ever read to you?” he asked numbly. “I don’t remember.”

“You did.” His forgetting felt like a shard of glass in her throat. Those memories were sacred to her; it wasn’t something that should have been easily forgotten. A lick of cold air from the opened window brushed over her face. She kept her expression calm. Now wasn’t the time to get frustrated at Hiro. “Before bedtime. Sometimes, I’d have dreams based on the part you were reading when I fell asleep. They were really vivid. Actually, I still remember a few of them.”

Hiro smiled faintly and closed his eyes. “I’m glad. Sorry for forgetting about that. I’m tired.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ichigo automatically.

“I’m gonna rest a little. My head is killing me.”

“I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Thanks.”

Hiro was asleep when she re-entered the room, barely a minute later—still tired, it seemed, even though he had done nothing but sleep since Zero Two left. He twitched in response to the sound of Ichigo setting the glass down on the bedside table. As he slept, his brow was knitted in discomfort, and his eyelids were twitching. It looked like he was about to start crying.

Ichigo turned away from the unpleasant sight, toward the door, and just stood there in the room for several seconds—not moving, only listening to the sound of the wind through the opened window, and the stamen’s gentle breathing. Her throat was on the verge of bursting with emotion. Fury and resentment at Zero Two, for what she’d done to Hiro. Looking at Hiro brought up a much less easy-to-rationalize mixture of feelings: anger and exasperation and jealousy and sympathy and pity and grief.

Would it be insane to do the thing she was on the verge of doing? Maybe. Perhaps everyone had gone insane. Maybe being forced to fight monsters and grow up alone and watch their friends die or disappear had driven them to it. 

Well, Ikuno had been brave enough, hadn’t she?

Ichigo turned and sat again on the edge of the mattress. Hiro shifted in response to her weight, but didn’t wake up. How strange it seemed to her; the idea of sleeping next to someone, of holding one’s partner while dreaming. The parasites had been forbidden from sharing beds since almost twelve months before they’d left Garden. What would breaking that taboo have been like? What must it be like now, to have had that warmth and closeness torn away from him, surely before he had even known what was happening? Why was every inch of her skin burning with the desire to sleep next to Hiro?

She moved quickly, to give herself less time to lose her nerve. There was no going back. She slipped under the covers and inched as close to his sleeping body as she could manage without disturbing his sleep. The pillow was incredibly soft, though it still smelled faintly of Zero Two. Hiro muttered in his sleep and shifted sideways, and their bodies contacted each other. Despite the warmth of the blanket, his body was cold. His hands and feet looked pale; they were icy to the touch.

Without thinking, Ichigo reached out and wrapped her arms and legs around his body, pulling the two of them close together, trying to share her body heat with him.

“You shouldn’t,” mumbled Hiro, and her heart nearly stopped.

“I…I thought…” Her cheeks were burning. There was no going back. There was no explaining herself out of this situation. “You seemed cold, so I—”

“This is only gonna make it worse, Zero Two. We have to…we have to say goodbye soon…”

He was talking in his sleep.

* * *

“I’ll have a transport ready for you in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“You have all your things with you?”

“I don’t have any _things_ , Doctor. Except for the uniform.”

“Well,” said the old man indifferently, “that’ll make boarding easier, I suppose. I appreciate your cooperation, Code 002.”

“Whatever.”

“When you get to Plantation One, say hello to the Nines for me.”

That didn’t sound right. _Plantation One._ A discordant mess of sounds, like plucking a poorly tuned guitar. She didn’t want to go back to Plantation One.

Her fingers twitched of their own accord, but the rush of fury and excitement that had made her wrap her fingers around Frank’s throat had drained out of her. Every last drop. Really, she couldn’t kill him anyway, so there wouldn’t be any fun in it.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“The Nines are in the facility already, as of yesterday. You’ll meet up with them, debrief, et cetera.”

“I don’t want to go back to Plantation One.” Zero Two’s hands curled into fists. “You’re trying to make them run those tests on me again, aren’t you? I can’t stand those tests. They always make me feel wrong. I’m not going.”

“You know perfectly well that you won’t be allowed to pilot with any stamen otherwise.”

“I’ll fly on my own, then.”

Frank sighed deeply and dragged his intact hand across his face. “Honestly, do we have to go through this every time?”

Zero Two knew her answer already. Piloting alone—stampeding—ran the risk of drastically increasing her saurification, of undoing the years of agonizing work she’d undertaken to get to this point. There was no option. There never had been. Even Zero Two didn’t have the capability to force one of the Nines to fly with her. A human stamen, sure—but after the two weeks she’d spent with Darling, it made her feel sick now to even _consider_ stepping back into a cockpit with one of those hollow dead-eyed puppet things.

Frank saw the answer on her face before she gave it. His expression was impassive, but there was a glint of smug superiority in her eyes, and she suppressed with difficulty the sudden urge to take him by the throat again.

“That’s more like it. The sooner you get used to it, Code 002, the quicker this can all be over.”

* * *

“Ichigo.”

_No, I don’t wanna get up. It’s warm in here and I’m sleepy._

“Ichigo, wake up.”

“Mmmph. Five more minutes…”

A gentle laugh, one that she hadn’t heard in a long time. Blue eyes met her own when she opened them. Blue like chips of ice, or shards of sky. He’d turned over to face her while she slept.

“When did you get in here?”

She stirred sleepily. Warmth was all around her. “…Hiro?”

“That helped a lot, Ichigo. Thanks. I feel better now.”

“You mean, when…when I got in bed with you?”

“It was cozy.” He grinned. “You’re sweet. Actually, to be honest, I was hoping you’d do it. I just didn’t want to ask.”

The shift in his mood had taken Ichigo completely by surprise.

“Of course,” she said automatically.

“Don’t _of course_ me,” he teased. “You wouldn’t just go and get in bed with any of the other parasites in the squad. I know why you did it, Ichigo. _You_ know why.”

Ichigo felt her cheeks burning again, although there was something not completely unpleasant about the sensation of embarrassment.

“Don’t be stupid,” she mumbled.

“You want me to hold you the way I held Zero Two, don’t you? You want to share the bed and the bath with me too, don’t you? If you’re trying to hide it, you’re not doing a very good job.” He laughed gently.

“I…”

The blue eyes were piercing her.

“Maybe,” she breathed.

“Want me to show you the kinds of things we did in bed?”

Hiro reached out his right hand and brushed the rim of her ear with his fingers, right beneath the silver swan-shaped hair clip that she’d forgotten to take off before falling asleep. It was like a spark of electricity had jumped between the two of them—and from the site of the spark, sudden overwhelming waves of anticipation, so powerful they were frightening. She wanted very much for him to do exactly that.

He threw the covers off, then, and without warning he was above her on hands and knees, pinning her shoulders to the mattress with sudden immense strength she hadn’t believed Hiro to be capable of. There was no point in struggling; she was as outmatched as she would have been against a klaxosaur. And he was tracing a line down the middle of her chest with his finger, and sparks were exploding where he touched her. Her heartbeat was so strong that he had to be able to feel it through her skin.

_Beep. Beep._

“Wait,” she whispered.

_Beep. Beep._

_What is that? Does he have an alarm clock?_

The pressure on her shoulder was becoming painful. Her arm was falling asleep. Hiro had stopped moving; he wasn’t even looking at her anymore, but out of the opened window, as though he had suddenly remembered something.

_Beep. Beep._

_Oh, I remember. That sound means that I’m getting a call on my communicator._

Where had she put it? On the bedside table, next to the water glass. Ichigo couldn’t move her body. She twisted her neck to look in that direction. The tabletop was blank. When she looked back, Hiro had vanished entirely. The pressure on her shoulder remained. Her hand was tingling.

_Beep. Beep._

Ichigo woke up.

Hiro was in deep slumber. Her right arm, sandwiched between his body and the mattress, had fallen asleep. Her communicator beeped stridently on the bedside table. The sky had darkened as she slept. The sound of light rainfall was audible now through the open window.

She answered the call with her left hand, flexing the fingers in her right to massage feeling back into them.

“015 here.”

“Ichigo?”

“Hi, Nana. You needed something?”

“Sorry for the short notice.” Nana sounded slightly winded. “Get Squad 13 assembled and ready for transit by 1800 hours.”

“Roger. What’s the occasion?”

“I don’t have the details at the moment. We’ll brief you later this evening. All I can say for sure is that everyone needs to be ready to fly.”

A little sharp knot of anxiety formed in her stomach at the sound of those words.

“Got it. What about Hiro?”

“What about him? He needs to come along too, with Zero Two. Is there a problem?”

Ichigo hesitated. “Um, Nana, Zero Two is gone.”

A slight pause on the other end of the line.

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“She isn’t here,” said Ichigo. “She disappeared. Nobody’s seen her since yesterday morning. Hiro told me that she said goodbye to him.”

The second pause was much longer. Ichigo counted ten of her own heartbeats.

“Nana?”

She heard something that sounded like the aide swearing under her breath. Ichigo wasn’t sure she had ever heard Nana swear.

“Okay,” said Nana finally. “Well, regardless of that, bring Hiro too. We’ll think of something. How is he holding up?” 

“He isn’t.”

“I guess that’s not surprising. Okay. I’ve got to go. We’ll talk more this evening.”

“See you,” said Ichigo, but the line was already dead.

She stared at the little orange screen of the communicator for a few seconds before dropping it onto the bedspread.

The world was impatient. The klaxosaurs had no interest in waiting for Hiro’s grieving to end. The little gray bubble that had formed around Mistelteinn was pierced. And Kokoro was about to get an answer to the question she had voiced at lunchtime, the answer that Ichigo had been too afraid to give.

_What do we do if we get assigned another mission? We survive._

* * *

It wasn’t even 6 PM and the sun, setting behind the dorm, had already cast all the parasites waiting uncomfortably outside into deep shadow. Nobody talked. The atmosphere was frigid. It seemed that everyone had sensed, just as well as Ichigo had, that something important was about to happen.

She was, at least, immensely proud of how well her squad had handled the news on such short notice. Argentea’s pilots hadn’t wasted a single breath arguing. Hiro and Ikuno, the newly crowned black sheep of Squad 13, looked as crisp as the rest in their spotless parasite uniforms, the bulging knapsacks on their backs packed with essentials.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

“Hiro-kun, you look cold. Do you need a coat?”

“I’m fine.”

It was sweet of Kokoro to try and break the awkward silence, but Hiro had never made a more pointless statement in his life. Though, in a sense, it was also true; he couldn’t feel the cold at all. He couldn’t feel anything, in fact, unless he devoted all his concentration to it. He kept glancing at the ground to remind himself that his feet were still touching it.

Everything was moving too fast. It was hard to remember which events of the past 24 hours had really happened and which had come from one of his nightmares. Zero Two wasn’t lined up here with them, so that answered the most important question. Hiro’s senses had been sharp and acute, with diamond edges, when she’d been near him. He clung to the memory. If he didn’t, he was going to forget what it felt like, and that would not be meaningfully different from dying.

Movement in the distance. Hard to make out through deep evening shadows, though he could see that it was more than two people. Who else would it be, besides Nana and Hachi? What other adults could he even remember seeing? Other than the old doctor, who had left the plantation several days ago. They were probably APE guards, then. In another reality, his stomach might have tightened with anxiety. For what reason could Squad 13 possibly need an armed escort?

The gray masks, visible from a good distance, confirmed his suspicion. It had been years since he last wondered why the adults wore those masks, or how they could see out of them. Maybe they served the same purpose that Zero Two’s headband did. Or maybe the adults just didn’t want any parasites to be able to recognize them. As if they would have been able to anyway. Nana’s and Hachi’s and Doctor Frank’s eyes were the only ones he’d seen since long before leaving Garden.

“You’re early, Nana,” said Ichigo as the aide stopped in front of her, hands clasped behind her back. “It’s five fifty-eight.”

“Is everyone ready to move?” Nana seemed distracted; she wasn’t even meeting Ichigo’s eyes. Hiro watched Ichigo shift her posture minutely, drawing herself up to her full height. She was still dwarfed by everyone else.

“Ma’am. The dorm is cleaned and locked down. We’re ready to fly.”

_To fly?_

That hadn’t been his imagination. She really had said that. At the sound of the word, he saw Miku lean over and whisper something to Kokoro, who looked paler than usual.

That couldn’t be right. How could he fly without Zero Two?

“I see,” said Nana, her gaze passing over the other members of Squad 13. “You didn’t tell them? Probably for the best. Follow me, then, please.”

They all fell in line behind her, with Ichigo and Goro at the front and Hiro at the very end of the line behind Ikuno. Two of the masked guards slid into position behind him in turn. They were completely silent; the only sound he heard from them was the crunching of the pebbles in the path beneath the soles of their boots. The noise was grating.

“Nana,” he heard Goro say at the front of the line. “What’s with the escort? We can navigate the plantation just fine by ourselves. Is something going on in the hangar or something?”

“I’ll explain everything when we get there,” said Nana shortly.

Hiro watched Ikuno’s butterfly-shaped hair clip bob up and down in front of him. It occurred to him that she no longer had a partner either.

They passed into the plantation, through the massive doors set in the white wall that bordered the northern edge of Mistelteinn. Hiro had walked this route a thousand times. Along the path, through the doors into the cold gleaming-white plantation, down two sets of stairs and onto the boarding platform for the tramway that carried parasites to the hangar.

Squad 13 followed Nana into the tram car in silence and took the seats that they’d ridden a thousand times. The guards entered too, stiffly, each pair standing ramrod-straight at either end of the cabin.

Hiro saw Kokoro turn pale and tighten her grip on the skirt of her uniform as the tram car slid into motion. Zorome and Miku, too, looked alarmed. He knew why. A thousand times they’d climbed into this cabin and sat and watched the lights outside blur together into glowing lines as it carried them to the hangar. For most of Squad 13, this would be the first time in their memory that the tram departed in the opposite direction.

He knew this route already; he had taken it once before, with Naomi. The tram was taking them to the landing bays. They were leaving Plantation 13.

Kokoro sucked in a shaky breath as the tram sped up. Ichigo reached out and started to rub her shoulder, and Kokoro put her hand on top of Ichigo’s. She looked like she was about to cry. Futoshi and Ikuno both watched the scene in silence. Futoshi seemed anxious; Ikuno looked like she was going to fall asleep.

The enormous landing bay doors were still open by the time they arrived, and the dying sunlight shone through them, casting twenty-yard-long shadows behind every member of Squad 13 as they crossed the open space in silence. A solitary air transport, barely the width of Mistelteinn’s living room, comically small between the colossal immobile hulls of the “people-movers” that filled the hangar, was lit up and humming softly. Kokoro stopped short when she saw it, still gripping the edge of her uniform convulsively.

“Come on,” said Ichigo soothingly, not missing a beat. “Keep moving. It’s gonna be fine.”

“I don’t want to go,” said Kokoro miserably.

“Wherever we’re going, the whole squad will be with you.” Ichigo took Kokoro’s left hand in her right. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“I don’t want to go,” repeated Kokoro.

Hiro, who was staring out at the horizon, felt something bump his shoulder. Futoshi was passing him, a look of pale determination on his face. Hiro watched Kokoro twitch in surprise as her partner appeared at her side and took her other hand.

“You’ll be safe with us, Kokoro-chan.”

Futoshi’s voice was shaking slightly as he spoke, but Hiro thought he did an admirable job of hiding it. Kokoro said nothing in response. Hiro could see her stark paleness start to flush pink.

A hard lump formed in his throat. He didn’t want to watch this happen after all. He wanted back the numbness, the oblivion. His head was pounding. He grit his teeth and looked away.

Squad 13 filed into the transport. The rumbling of its engine faded away completely as Hiro crossed the threshold. The APE guards remained outside; it seemed that this was the furthest that they would be accompanying the squad. Thank God.

Hiro took a window seat and dropped his bag on the floor next to him. He rested his aching forehead on the cool glass. If only it would stop hurting…

The hatch closed with a _thunk_.

“Nana,” said Ichigo firmly, before the sound had even stopped ringing in Hiro’s ears. “Explain, please.”

Ikuno, who had plopped down next to Hiro, shifted slightly in her seat, and he knew she was listening.

“Right.” Nana sounded exhausted. “Sorry about…all of this. It was very short notice, and I was instructed not to discuss anything in front of APE personnel. This is…a special assignment. Specifically for Squad 13.”

“How _special_ , exactly?”

Hiro could tell from Ichigo’s tone, even with his eyes closed, that her arms were folded defiantly across her chest.

“You are—temporarily—being reassigned as the official defense squad of Plantation One.”

Several seconds’ ringing silence followed Nana’s words.

“What?” said Zorome incredulously. “Like…like, _the_ Plantation One? Like…the one that we came from? Where Garden is, and everything?”

“Correct.”

“What happened to the defense squad that’s already assigned there?” demanded Goro.

“You’ll be training alongside them, for now.”

“But why do they need us at all?”

Hiro opened his eyes. Nana was standing at the front of the row of seats, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked even more exhausted than she sounded—he wondered whether she had even slept in the last 24 hours. She was smiling apologetically at Goro.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to that question any more than you do.”

“And what about Plantation 13?” said Ichigo. “It won’t last two weeks without us. Is Squad 26 going to help?”

“Right in one. 26 has agreed to split defensive duties between their plantation and 13.”

Miku sighed in relief. “I swear, if we come back and my bedroom is a smoldering pile of rubble, I’m going to kill somebody. Possibly myself.”

Ichigo didn’t skip a beat. “You said _training_ , Nana. But we’ve graduated from the parasite program already. What are we training for?”

“Well…the council has given the OK on an experimental modification to the parasite program.” For the first time Hiro could remember in at least five years, Nana was looking awkward.

“I don’t think you could’ve made that sound more ominous,” muttered Ikuno, too quietly for anyone in the other seats to hear.

They were interrupted by a soft rumbling noise and vibration as the air transport lifted off. Orange lights from sunset flickered on the cabin ceiling.

“Over the next three weeks, you’re required to reach a sync target of at least one-forty-five with your partner,” continued Nana. “There will be a number of changes to your schedule, training regimen, and work environment to accomplish that.”

“One- _forty-five_?” repeated Zorome in disbelief. “No fucking way.”

Hiro knew that the “sync target” was a number that measured partner compatibility, but he’d never figured out what it actually _meant_. It wasn’t the type of thing that the adults had any interest in explaining to him in detail. Just like every other parasite, though, he had the numbers burned into his brain. Sixty-five was _minimum viable_ , not usable for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Ninety was _good_. One hundred was _optimal_. In a separate lifetime, he might have been as astounded as Zorome by the ridiculous target Nana had tossed out. _One forty-five_. He’d never heard of any partners ever even hitting one-thirty.

“Did they just pick a number at random?” said Goro, sounding unconvinced. “One-forty-five isn’t physically possible. Nobody can maintain a connection like that.”

“Well…” said Kokoro timidly, “I think it _is_ possible…technically…”

“It’s almost an order of magnitude higher than the operating standard for FRANXX,” objected Goro.

“But Hiro-kun’s done it.”

Hiro heard a rustling of motion as most of the squad turned to look at him. He did not want them to. He didn’t have the slightest idea what Kokoro was talking about, but the only times he’d ever been able to reach a sustainable sync target were when he was flying with Zero Two.

“Eh?” said Zorome.

“I…” Kokoro sounded like she wanted to hide. “I thought everybody knew, or I wouldn’t have brought it up. Sorry…”

“Kokoro is correct,” said Nana. “And I’m sure that, in several weeks’ time, all of you will be able to hit that target.”

“What kind of changes are you talking about?” asked Ichigo, sounding more subdued.

“I’ll cover the specifics once we land. The most important one, which I’d like you all to be prepared for, is that you’ll be sharing a room with your partner for the foreseeable future.”

“ _What?_ ” said Zorome and Miku in almost perfect unison.

“But…” stammered Futoshi.

“I understand that this is coming as a bit of a surprise to everyone,” said Nana, her cheeks crinkling in that characteristic reassuring smile. “But I’d like to ask you to do your best to adjust, considering the circumstances.”

“Open the hatch,” said Miku stonily. “I’m going to jump.”

“The council thinks it’s going to help us sync better, I guess,” said Ichigo, thinking aloud. The aide nodded approvingly. “I dunno. It seems kind of…”

“Drastic,” said Goro. “Or insane. Nana, isn’t there a risk of it making things worse instead? What if partners have irreconcilable differences? Not only that, but this is putting Plantation One in danger too. How long will the original squad still be assigned there?”

Nana raised both hands in surrender. “I realize that it’s a lot to take in. Unfortunately, there are a lot of things I don’t have the answers for right now. For now, just know that Papa and the council believe that this experiment is worth the risk.” She smiled again, her eyes on Goro. Something about her face—the exhaustion and the bags under her eyes—seemed at odds with the expression. “And so do I. I have complete confidence in all of you.”

Hiro could sense Zorome and Miku both fighting the urge to start arguing. The air transport was thrumming beneath his feet. The sun had fully set; the sky was stained purple, and stars were visible through the opposite window.

“Kokoro?”

The silver-haired girl had raised her hand, trembling slightly. Nana turned her encouraging smile on Kokoro.

“I have two questions about things I…I think you missed.”

“Go on.”

“Two of us are missing partners,” she said. “What are Hiro-kun and Ikuno-chan supposed to do?”

Ikuno shifted again.

“Well, you’ll have the freedom to experiment with the squad configuration in the coming days,” said Nana gently. “For now, Hiro and Ikuno will be flying together.”

“Yeah…I figured,” said Kokoro.

Hiro felt a surge of nausea against the back of his throat.

It wasn’t really Kokoro’s fault, but he was annoyed with her anyway. It had been spoken aloud now, set in stone. There was nowhere to run; there was nothing to gain from arguing about it, not in this tiny little cramped cabin where everyone could see and hear him. Ikuno did not want to fly with him: that much was blatantly obvious, and he knew it wasn’t personal and would never blame her for it. After her experience with her last partner, he couldn’t fault Ikuno for never wanting to enter a FRANXX again—except, perhaps, with Ichigo, who he knew she trusted more than anyone else in the squad. As for what he wanted…well, piloting without Zero Two would be like eating after losing one’s sense of taste. And yet regardless of what he wanted, or what Ikuno wanted, their fates were sealed now with half a dozen words out of Nana’s mouth.

For a split second, all the icy numbness inside his chest coalesced into a single point of anger.

“You had another question, right?” said Nana.

Kokoro’s face was as pale as her hair. “Yes. I-I mean…no. I mean…never mind. That was it.”

Miku, sitting next to her, gave her a sidelong uneasy look.

“In that case,” said Nana, standing again. “We’ll be arriving in the early morning. Get some sleep, if you can. You’ve got a long month ahead of you.” She paused, one hand on the sliding door that separated their little cabin from the chamber closer to the front, where the adults usually sat. “Good luck.”

The moment the door latch had clicked shut behind Nana, Miku rounded on Kokoro. “What were you gonna ask her?”

“I can’t,” whispered Kokoro. “Not right now.”

“Well…okay.” Miku sounded wary, but Hiro could tell she didn’t want to press the issue, especially in this cramped little cabin where everyone could hear them. “Tell me when we land, yeah?”

Hiro rested his head against the cool glass again.

The next time he opened his eyes, the cabin was full of sunlight. There was a blanket of glittering snow on the surface far below them, stirring up half-forgotten memories—memories of watching the snow pile up in drifts outside the windows of Garden, though he’d never seen it from this high up before.

Ikuno, sitting next to him and looking exhausted, did not appear to have slept at all.

“Snow,” said Miku quietly. “So early? It’s not even October yet.”

“Winter starts a lot earlier this high up,” Ichigo reminded her.

Hiro remembered too, once she’d said it. Garden was built atop a mesa almost three kilometers above sea level. As it was the only non-mobile plantation, the location was chosen as an extra safety precaution. Klaxosaurs, predominantly subterranean creatures, were averse to burrowing—or climbing—so far away from the heat of the underground.

Amid the sparkling blanket of snow, the distant silver teardrop shape of Plantation One was growing steadily larger. Garden was nestled in the pointed end, and Naomi was locked in a cryo tube half a kilometer away along the eastern side.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re seeing this old place again,” said Futoshi, letting out a low whistle.

“Everything was simpler in Garden,” murmured Goro. “Sure wish I could go back sometimes.”

“Goro,” said Ichigo.

“I know, I know. I’m joking.”

“Kokoro-chan, are you feeling okay?” interrupted Futoshi anxiously, staring at his partner from across the aisle. “You look pale.”

Kokoro shivered at the sound of her name. From two rows back, Hiro could see her turning pink again.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’m just cold.”

“Maybe you should—”

Futoshi cut off as Miku slid her overcoat off and wrapped it around the silver-haired girl sitting next to her. Immediately, Kokoro rested her head on Miku’s shoulder.

“Atta girl,” Miku whispered. “We’ll be on the ground soon.”

“I’m afraid, Miku-chan.”

“I know.”

In the chilly, silent cabin, the six other parasites waited in silence, all craving warmth and closeness as Kokoro had been given, none brave enough to reach out, or to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long delay, everyone. real life has been kicking my ass and this part of dreamers is proving especially difficult to write.


	11. Swan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I started writing this chapter, i couldn't tell any of the Nines apart (except Alpha) and forgot what their names were. i went and looked them up later, but honestly, i really don't think it matters.

He’d found a stray kitten once when he was a kid, stowed away in a narrow crawlspace somewhere in Garden. A little ball of fury with spiky teeth like needles, matted black hair all standing on end like an angry little pincushion. It was emaciated, too—skeletally thin. He’d tried to reach out to comfort it and it had sunk two of its little teeth into his knuckle, making a sound like someone had tried to squash it flat.

 _It’s okay,_ he’d wanted to tell the kitten. _I know you’re scared. You’re safe with me._ Warm body against warm body. Two matched hearts beating to survive. And for all he could do to help it, they might as well have been on two different planets.

Ichigo had suggested that he talk to the adults and ask them for help. No chance. He knew, with a certainty written in stone, what they would do with something as weak and frightened as a stray kitten. It was borne of an instinct he’d had since before he could walk.

_Don’t trust the adults._

A buzzer sounded.

_“Okay. No-go on sync attempt three. Disconnect and reset, Chlorophytum. Re-initializing in forty seconds.”_

Hiro wondered how many other parasites had ever flown with three different people. It couldn’t be many. Partners were almost always paired for life—that had been drummed into them over and over in Garden. _Choose carefully,_ their caretakers had told them. _Once you’ve selected a partner, there will be no going back._ Was there anything they told the truth about?

Syncing with Naomi had been a little clumsy and awkward at the start, as they adjusted to each others’ presence. In his mind he likened it to holding onto a chunk of glass; cool and solid, and sometimes when their consciousnesses grated against each other, or when he had to hold on tightly, the sharp broken edges would dig into him and cause a stabbing discomfort in his temples. He had never bothered to ask the adults if it was normal. He had never even asked anyone else in the squad what piloting felt like for them. Maybe that was strange. He could picture Miku and Kokoro sharing stories about piloting. For Hiro, the act was too intimate to make conversation about, and he was ashamed, too, because he knew that the grating sensation of desyncing was twice as uncomfortable for Naomi as it was for him, and he had never apologized.

Syncing with Zero Two was _Stop thinking about her._

He spoke aloud, since their two minds were cut off from each other. “You doing okay?”

Going through the motions. They both knew Ikuno’s answer, and her answer was meaningless anyway.

“I’m fine.” She was panting slightly. Her butterfly hair clip was bobbing up and down in front of him, in sync with the rhythm of her breathing. It was pretty. How long had she been using it? He could not conjure a memory of an Ikuno without her hair clip. “Give me a second.”

Syncing with Ikuno was like sitting in a small and silent room, whose walls and floor threatened to give way and shatter into a million pieces. It was comforting, in a way. A week ago he wouldn’t have said that he and Ikuno had anything in common. But she was in pain too, and she was struggling just as hard as he was to keep it from swallowing her up.

* * *

The woman standing across from Doctor Frank was so angry that he could almost feel the heat coming off of her.

“A hundred years ago, in a just world, you’d be on trial at the Hague right now.”

“Excellent point.” Frank tapped his metal fingers on the desktop. “I assume you saw the readings, then? I’ve got to say, Nana, that I’m glad we didn’t carry along the concept of _war crime_. I can’t even imagine how badly scientific advancement in the old world was held back as a result.”

“I’m not sure what meets your standards of _human life_ ,” said Nana coldly. “Maybe the Council doesn’t. But those children certainly do.”

“Of course they do! My dear, that’s the _entire point_ of this whole exercise. We—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“As you wish. So did something come up, or was the purpose of your visit just to shout at me? Either way, I’d appreciate it if you scheduled something ahead of time. I’m a little busy.”

“Both, actually.” Nana uncrossed her arms for the first time since coming in, though she was still glaring at him. It looked like she was considering her words carefully.

“Go on.”

“I thought you should know that Code 016 is most likely done.”

“‘Done’?” repeated Frank. “What do you mean by that? I’m aware his numbers are down.”

“ _Down_ isn’t the word I’d use,” said Nana. “He’s flatlined. He isn’t even responding to sync attempts with 196. I don’t believe he has any future as a pilot. Just let him be. Send him back to Plantation 13.”

“A bold suggestion, coming from his biggest cheerleader.”

“I’m not sure even you understand how much damage you did by mishandling the situation with 002.”

If he’d still had a functioning lip, it would have curled in disgust. Attacks on his character, fine. He had heard plenty of those in 150 years. But attacks on his methods were a whole different beast, not least because they were coming from the mouth of someone who was barely an adult.

“It’s not over yet,” he said finally.

“They aren’t machines, Doctor. They’re kids.” Nana folded her arms again. “You can’t repair them once you’ve pushed them past their limit.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “Nana, of all people, _you_ expect me to believe that?”

She paled with fury. Well, maybe he had crossed a line. Crossing lines, after all, was what he got paid for.

“If harm comes to any member of Squad 13,” she said finally, her voice shaking, “as a result of this latest ‘experiment’, I won’t be working with you any longer.”

 _That_ annoyed Frank.

“Please, Nana, enough with the empty threats. You know full well what will happen once you’re no longer under my protection.”

“Yes, I do.” Nana was livid. “Tell you the truth, I’m losing interest in your protection, if this is what I have to do in exchange.” She spun on her heel and her mane of curly brown hair fanned out behind her. “That was all, Doctor. We’ll be in touch.”

Frank watched her hourglass figure recede down the hallway, a faint tingle of unease in his stomach. Nana would have made an excellent test subject.

* * *

Hiro’s memory of Garden was one of pastel walls and warm inviting lights and the comfort of closeness. Either the memory had aged poorly or he had. Every place inside Plantation One was freezing cold. He wondered whether it was uncomfortable for the pistils, in suits so skintight that they looked painted on. He had never bothered asking any of the girls.

“Hey.” Ichigo spoke in a low voice, like she was trying to give him and Ikuno privacy, even though the entirety of Squad 13 was crammed together in this little hallway outside the briefing room.

Ikuno met the squad captain’s eyes for a brief second before she looked away. Hiro watched her shoulders hunch together minutely. It was something, he’d found, that she did very often.

“How’d it go?” said Ichigo.

“Fine,” replied Ikuno at once.

“You guys were able to sync this time?”

Ikuno flinched.

“Getting close,” lied Hiro.

“Cool.”

He knew that Ichigo normally would have known better than to ask, but he couldn’t blame her for letting the anxiety of the situation get to her. They had three weeks left to make adjustments, to compensate for going from five functional FRANXX—including Strelizia—to three.

Ikuno tapped the toe of her boot against the floor impatiently.

Nana smiled warmly across the room at all of them, sitting there on the circular rows of stepped benches that were identical to the ones in Plantation 13.

“Before we get started,” she said, “let me be the first to congratulate everyone. We’ve only been in Plantation One for six days, but you’ve all made tremendous progress.”

The room was silent. Hiro wondered if Nana was expecting an excited reaction; she had let the silence hang a little longer than normal. None was forthcoming: every other parasite in the squad looked just as cold and tired and pale as Ikuno.

“In fact, that’s why you’re here,” continued Nana. “The council informed me that, in light of your excellent performance, we’ll be moving ahead in the program.”

“What does that mean?” asked Ichigo. She hadn’t even bothered to raise her hand. She looked too exhausted for formalities.

“Right,” said Nana. She tapped one of the buttons under the holo-display and it hummed to life as she continued speaking. A teardrop shape blinked into existence; an overhead view of Plantation One. “Starting tonight, Squad 13 will be engaging in combat.”

“What?” said Futoshi dully. “Already?”

“‘Already’?” repeated Zorome, glancing over at the taller boy. “I’ve been itching for this since we got here. This stupid plantation is so _boring_. At least piloting is something to do.”

“Yeah,” said Miku sourly. “My roommate is driving me up the wall, too. At least I’ll be able to go outside and get away from…oh, wait.”

“I understand.” Ichigo was keeping her voice steady. “Is Squad One shorthanded, Nana?

“Well—”

“We’re ready,” said Ichigo.

 _Shorthanded,_ thought Hiro. Though contact with the outside world had been brief—he had spent almost all of his time training or bunkered up in the little shared room with Ikuno—the fact remained that he hadn’t heard any alarms or even seen a klaxosaur since they landed.

Nana turned toward the display, highlighting a location at the base of the teardrop. “We’ve detected unusual seismic activity around the base of the mesa, about three kilometers south of here.”

“That’s a good sign,” muttered Zorome.

“As you all know, Plantation One is located here precisely to discourage klaxosaur activity, as they poorly tolerate cold weather and high altitudes. Until recently, only a skeleton crew was needed for patrols. That’s changed in the last month. For some reason, they’re becoming increasingly aggressive.”

“So Papa’s solution was to add three FRANXX from an experimental squad?” said Goro. “Is that even going to help?”

“Actually, 13 is the second reinforcement squad.” Nana poked the diagram of Plantation One on the display, and a large number **09** appeared there. “You’ll be meeting with the other squad’s leader later today, in preparation for joining the patrol rotation. He’s been out in the field, so he’ll be able to provide you with useful information.”

“Squad 9?” whispered Kokoro. “That’s weird. What are they doing here?”

“You said _combat_ earlier, Nana,” Ichigo pointed out. “Not patrols. Are they expecting an attack?”

“Good catch,” said Nana, and she tapped the diagram again. A handful of little triangular icons faded into view, spread randomly around the border of Plantation One. “These are klaxosaur encounters that happened in the time between three years and one month ago. Negligible compared to the other plantations in the fleet, which are all much closer to sea level.”

“And now?” said Goro apprehensively.

“Here you go.” Nana tapped the diagram a third time, and a dozen triangles blinked into view, all clustered at the southern edge of the map near the rounded base of Plantation One. As soon as they had faded in, they began to move north, marking their paths with dotted lines. Behind them, another layer of icons appeared, then another, then another—then too many to count, all tracing dotted lines behind them as they beelined toward the plantation’s wall, until the diagram was so thick with them that it looked like a patch of solid color.

Someone let out a breath they had been holding. It might’ve been Kokoro.

“One hundred and eighty-one,” said Nana, answering their unasked question. “And the number of detections per day are steadily increasing. That number is likely to double within the next two weeks.”

“What changed?” said Ichigo. “Why are there so many?”

“I wish I had a good answer for you, but unfortunately, we don’t know any more than you do. All I can say is that the protection of Plantation One is vitally important—probably more so than any assignment I’ve ever given you before.”

“So no pressure?” grumbled Zorome.

“Exactly,” said Nana with her characteristic smile, taking Zorome’s comment at face value. “I wish you all the best of luck. Crews of Delphinium, Argentea, Genista—you’ll be dispatched within the next three hours, so you can do as you please until then, though I recommend going through startup procedures at least once in the hangar so you can be sure everything will go smoothly.”

Hiro felt the eyes of most of the parasites in the room fall on him and Ikuno. Why was everyone staring at them? What was the point? Everyone knew they hadn’t synced yet; it was hardly news by now. It wasn’t that he minded it, either, but Ikuno’s discomfort was so evident that he could feel it emanating off of her.

“Let’s go,” mumbled Ikuno, more to herself than to him.

“Pardon?” said Nana.

“You don’t need us, right?” said Ikuno. “Can I leave?”

“Oh.” The aide squinted at her, looking a little concerned. “Yes, of course. Are you feeling okay, Ikuno?”

Ikuno ignored the question, rose from her seat and crossed the room toward the exit. It looked like she was restraining herself with great difficulty from breaking into a run.

The moment the door had closed behind her, Miku rounded on Hiro. “What the hell did you do?”

“Miku-chan, don’t,” said Kokoro reproachfully. “I think she’s just stressed out and worried. All of us are. And…and not being able to sync is scary, too.”

“Okay, so if he didn’t do anything, why isn’t he going after her?”

_Because she doesn’t want me to._

He only answered inside his head. It was only natural for Miku to suspect him, and starting an argument with her wouldn’t help. Kokoro was right. Everyone in this room was on edge.

Nana cleared her throat loudly, and they all turned toward her again.

“I understand that you’re all under a lot of pressure right now,” said Nana gently, “but that also means that right now, it’s more important than ever that you can support and uplift each other.”

Miku’s fiery curly hair was hiding her reaction from Hiro’s view, but her shoulders relaxed and he knew that she had relented.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. Sorry, Hiro. I just…”

“No problem.” He rose from his seat too.

“Where are you going?” asked Ichigo, eyeing him.

“After her.”

He knew where Ikuno would be. In the flashes he’d seen from within her mind, in the brief moments of connectivity before the bridges shattered, he saw that she felt the same thing he did. This place was suffocating them. White walls and unnatural sterile cleanliness, just like the inside of Plantation 13. There was no sunlight inside Plantation One, only fluorescent strip lights inlaid in the ceiling that cast everything with a sickly blue glow, and the only place that you could get away from it was the interior of the simulator cockpit.

Syncing had become her obsession in the past two days; something she hated with every fiber of her being but which she dedicated herself slavishly to regardless, repeating the pre-sync mental exercises over and over ad nauseam, long after the repetition had stopped being effective. There was nothing else to do here, and there was no purpose for a parasite who could not pilot. Ikuno wanted to be told that everyone knew she was trying her best. And then, as the small portion of his brain not dedicated to the memory of Zero Two reminded him, there was Hiro, sitting in the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, sitting in silence and waiting for a connection that could never be made, because each of them was closed off.

_Support and uplift each other._

The phrase that Nana had just used was replaying over and over in his head.

* * *

Mitsuru took a walk. Not that there was anywhere to go—or anything to see—save for a hallway that stretched on seemingly forever in both directions, lined on either side with silent windowless rooms like the one he stayed in, except that they were all deserted. He just needed to look at something different for an hour. The textured gray walls and ceiling of the hospital room were all starting to blur together and he was beginning to see Hiro’s face in them, and whenever that happened his chest would start hurting again. Hiro and Zero Two.

It was with no small amount of surprise, then, that—rounding one of the bends of the hallway—he saw that one of the other room’s lights were on. The nurse hadn’t told him that anyone was coming. Not that she ever told him anything to begin with.

Would it be another parasite? No, the nurse had already told him that he was the only one who had ever come back. But she’d also told him that she worked with the young parasite cadets, and none of them, as far as he knew, had ever used any of these rooms. Why were there so many empty rooms here anyway?

He crossed the threshold of the open door, passing under a large glowing number **68**.

The occupant seemed to be asleep, and it wasn’t anyone he recognized. They were nearly as small as Ichigo, and looked to be roughly the same age as her. Unlike Ichigo’s hair, which was dark enough to look blue under certain lighting, the patient’s hair was actually dark blue, almost indigo, and so shiny that it was reflecting the overhead lights. And their face was angular, more so than anyone’s he’d ever seen. If they were the same age as him, they might be a parasite after all—but what were they doing here?

“What do you want?”

Mitsuru flinched in surprise. So they weren’t asleep after all. Their voice was about the same pitch as Ikuno’s, but very hoarse. They sounded exhausted.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just looking around.”

“I don’t recognize you. Are you from 13?”

“What?” said Mitsuru blankly.

“Squad 13,” said the indigo-haired person, opening their eyes at last and staring at him. Their irises were reddish-brown. “But I thought you guys didn’t start flying yet. You’re human, yeah?”

“Huh?” said Mitsuru. Being interrogated was an eventuality he hadn’t prepared for. “What else would I be?”

“So you must be from 13, then.”

“Uh…I was, at one point, yes. Why are you asking about Squad 13?”

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like it’s such a strange question,” said the patient. “You’re the only other squad here.”

They were going backwards. This conversation had gotten more confusing the longer it went on.

“Hang on,” he said. “Where is ‘here’?”

The blue-haired person stared at him for several seconds, and he watched their expression transform from bewilderment to pity.

“I see,” they said. “You got messed up pretty bad, huh? Cranial trauma? I feel bad for you guys…you’re so fragile, even inside a FRANXX.”

Mitsuru opened his mouth, but he could not think of an appropriate response to this.

“I’m not supposed to be talking right now,” added the patient. “You should go. Best of luck with your recovery. I’ll come see you when I’m discharged, if I can.”

“Are you…injured?” he said finally.

They nodded, and pulled down the covers, which had been bunched around their neck.

Mitsuru flinched. The entire surface, from their shoulders, over their throat, up to the underside of their jaw, was covered with wide, jagged-edged slash wounds, many of which were so deep that he could see what looked like bone or fat inside them. Both their carotid and jugular must have been severed.

 _“You’re human, yeah?”_ Now he understood the question.

“I’m Code 326,” he said. “People call me Mitsuru. It was nice to meet you.”

“I’m Nine Delta.”

* * *

Normally, at times like this, Goro would ask his partner how she slept, if she’d eaten enough, whether she was ready to fly, whether she needed anything from him. Not that Ichigo needed babysitting. She was smart and competent and determined and organized and whatever else you’d want from a partner and a squad leader.

Now that he thought of it, he’d never even been sure whether he was helping or not.

“Goro.” Ichigo’s voice floated across the tiny room, slightly muffled behind the book she was reading, her head propped up on two stacked pillows at the foot of her bed.

“What’s up?”

“Can I have another one?”

“Sure. What flavor?”

“Green.” Dumb question. Her delicate little hand was extended toward him, palm up. Goro dug through the plastic jar on the bedside table, which had gone from full to half-empty in two days. Almost no greens left. He located one near the bottom and tossed it to Ichigo, who tried to grab it and missed.

“Sorry,” they both said at once.

“My fault,” said Goro. “I’ll get it.”

Ichigo sat up and laid her book on the floor next to the bed, and watched him as he got up. She shook her head when he tried to offer her the little paper-wrapped candy. “Throw it again.”

Goro sat down on the bed and tossed it to her underhand, and this time she snatched it out of the air. He nodded with approval, but instead of unwrapping it, she threw it back to him and he caught it. “Again.”

“Is this our new game?” said Goro, tossing it to her again. “I’m down.”

“Don’t be dumb. I shouldn’t have missed it the first time.” She threw the candy overhand, and he caught it. “Harder this time. If I’m that uncoordinated, I’m not gonna be able to fly.”

“You’ll be fine. You weren’t expecting it.”

“That’s my point.” Her brow darkened as her eyes fixed on the hard candy held between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Ichigo, you’re tensing up again.”

“No, I’m not.”

Goro stood up and crossed the room to sit on the bed next to her, placing the candy directly in her palm, and her glare moved from it to him.

“We can play catch with one of the reds,” he said. “We’re almost out of greens. The heat from our hands is gonna start melting this one. Just eat it. I’ll ask Nana for another jar.”

Ichigo sighed, and Goro nodded approvingly as she began to unwrap the candy.

“Scoot over.”

“What are you doing?” she asked thickly, looking askance at him, the candy lodged in one of her cheeks.

“I’m giving you a shoulder massage.”

“You know how?”

“‘Course. Medical has a book on it.”

“What? Why would you go through the medical library for that?”

“Too many questions,” said Goro sternly. “Sit and eat.”

She lapsed into silence—surprisingly—and sucked intently on the hard candy.

That was easier than he’d thought. Maybe Ichigo genuinely wanted a shoulder massage, after all. She certainly needed one—even his untrained hands could tell that her shoulder muscles were in layers upon layers of knots. Too much pent-up stress. And this was only after a week…

“Mmm,” mumbled Ichigo.

“You okay?”

He could feel her relaxing, little by little. “That feels… _really_ good.”

“Perfect.”

“This can’t be the first time you’ve done this,” she said sleepily. “Who’d you practice on?”

“Practice on?” he teased. “I told you, medical has books about it. What, you think I just went up to Zorome and said ‘Hey man, can you pretend you’re Ichigo for five minutes?’”

“Okay, well, when you put it that way…”

“That’s actually what I tried, but he told me to fuck off.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” said Ichigo. She sighed deeply and shrugged his hands off of her, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Thanks. That was nice.”

“Oh, are you done already?”

His partner stood up and faced away from him balanced on one foot in the middle of the tiny room, between their two beds, and started to stretch her shoulders, the thick beige gown dangling off her tiny frame.

“Did Nana ask you to do that?” said Ichigo.

Goro’s brow creased in confusion. “Ichigo, I don’t have an ulterior motive or anything. If it bothered you that much, you can tell me.”

“No…that’s not what I meant.” She sighed again and let her arms fall to her sides. “Sorry I’m being a bitch. I was just…surprised. That isn’t the kind of thing you usually do.”

“Yeah. I’ll give you that. I know it was sudden. The idea just popped into my head at one point. You’re my partner, and I hate seeing you so wound up.”

Ichigo turned to him, arms akimbo, looking like she was mulling over what she wanted to say.

“Honestly,” she said finally, hesitantly, “this is going to sound stupid, I know, especially because we share a room now. Don’t take it the wrong way. But…I just wasn’t ready for you to be that close.”

His heart sank, but he didn’t let it show on his face.

“Understandable. It was a little sudden.”

“I didn’t hate it,” said Ichigo quickly. “It was really relaxing, actually. Like, I thought I might start falling asleep. And I know it’s…not really that different from piloting together. But I just…”

Goro held up one hand to stop her. “You don’t have to justify yourself. I overstepped a boundary.”

“I knew you were gonna take it the wrong way.” Ichigo bit her lip, and her hand jumped to the swan-shaped hair clip above her left ear. “Ugh. This is so much more confusing than I thought.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I’m going to go change,” said Ichigo after a moment, and she turned toward the door. As if on cue, a chorus of two beeping noises sounded; her communicator, lying next to him on the bedspread, and his, sitting next to the jar of hard candies on the bedside table. Ichigo snatched up hers immediately, and Goro watched her brow furrow in the orange light from the screen.

“Time to pilot, I guess,” said Goro, standing up and stretching.

Ichigo shook her head. “We have to meet the Nine leader now.”

“Ah, yeah. Forgot about that.” He reached out to offer Ichigo a fistbump; it took her several seconds to notice. “You ready, Squad Leader?”

“No,” said Ichigo. “I’m not.” She shoved the communicator into her pocket. Her face was pale and determined. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The hatch of the simulator cockpit—a monolithic black semi-sphere on a raised platform, with steps leading up to it on either side—was still open when he got there, and enough light was spilling in from outside that he could see Ikuno sitting motionless, eyes closed, in the pilot’s seat, in what would normally have been pitch darkness.

She didn’t greet him, but he knew she heard him coming. As he reached the top of the steps, she let out a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said. “Ready?”

Ikuno nodded without opening her eyes. “Give me one second. I’ll move.”

“Nah, stay there. I want to try switching today.”

She opened her eyes finally, and stared at him through the bluish-white squares of light reflecting off of the lenses of her glasses, looking like she thought she hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Switching,” Ikuno repeated. “What do you mean, ‘switching’? You’re taking the pistil position?”

“Yeah. You don’t want me to?”

“No, that’s stupid,” she said after a moment, still staring at him. “I’ve never piloted before, and you don’t know how to connect to a FRANXX. This is already hard enough for us as it is.”

“We both know the controls,” Hiro pointed out, which was true; all parasites were trained to pilot mock FRANXX from an early age, even though roughly half of them would never sit in the pilot’s seat. Something about _emergency readiness_. “I can worry about connecting to the FRANXX later. We should just concentrate on syncing for now.”

Ikuno looked like she wanted to argue, but was too exhausted to do it. She shrugged, and he took the opportunity to climb into the cockpit and sit in the cradle in front of the pilot’s seat. It was a little too short for him to fit at first, but as it took his weight, some servos whined somewhere within the mechanism, and it expanded to accommodate his frame.

The white lights from outside were starting to aggravate his headache. On cue, Ikuno pulled the hatch down, and it clicked shut and they were both submerged in complete blackness. His ears were buzzing; outside of that, there was total silence. In the syncing process, the adults had told them, darkness and silence were important to minimize cognitive noise between partners.

“Help me when you have a sec,” he said. “I don’t remember how to lock the cradle.”

“It’s there,” said Ikuno automatically, and he felt her hand bump his shoulder. She was guiding his forearm now; in the darkness, his fingers detected a latch mechanism.

“Thanks.”

It was the first time he could remember Ikuno touching him. Her fingers were freezing cold.

In the darkness, when all he could feel was the cockpit’s front panel and the padded restraints of the cradle, Ikuno—save for the very faint sound of her breathing—could just as well be a thousand miles away from him. Though there was something comforting about the darkness and the familiar not-quite-mechanical smell of the cockpit, he was also aware for the first time how vulnerable it felt to be sitting here in the darkness, back exposed.

The realization that he probably wasn’t cut out to be a pistil nearly made him laugh out loud.

“I changed my mind,” said Ikuno, and she shifted restlessly in her seat. “I don’t want to try this after all.”

Hiro rested his forehead on the little padded surface above the neural uplink interface and closed his eyes, to watch the little white pinpricks that always appeared in his vision once he was in the dark for long enough. “Okay.”

“This idea was stupid.”

“Don’t worry, we don’t have to try it again.”

“That’s very generous of you,” said Ikuno quietly, her voice thick with sarcasm. “I have no idea what you were expecting, basically saying I belong in the boys’ seat.”

“You belong what?” mumbled Hiro. His head ached. “The boys’ seat? I just thought it might be easier to—”

“You said that already.” His interim partner’s voice was shaking. “I get it. Look, I don’t like being stuck with you any more than you do, Hiro. But that doesn’t mean you have to be a…I mean…i-is this supposed to be funny?”

His brain was moving in slow motion again. His temples were throbbing painfully. Somehow his suggestion had done the opposite of what he intended; he’d said something hurtful to Ikuno without even understanding what it was.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Slow down. I’m not trying to mess with you, Ikuno. I really just thought you’d be more comfortable leading the sync instead of following. That’s it.”

“Yes. I understand that you were saying that.” Ikuno was endeavoring to keep her voice steady. “Don’t worry, everyone’s already told me I’m worthless as a pistil. It is really, really not necessary to rub it in like this. I didn’t even think it was possible for you to make it worse.”

“Who’s told you that?” asked Hiro. “I know for a fact Ichigo hasn’t. I don’t know anyone who’s in Squad 13 right now that would say that, not after the number of times you flew Chlorophytum with us. Unless you’re talking about the guy who’s dying in medical right now because he forced someone to pilot with him who didn’t want to.”

Weeks of carefully skirting around the issue in Ikuno’s presence, of the entire squad’s implicit agreement not to mention Mitsuru again, all shattered by one sarcastic comment he made out of frustration.

Well, it wasn’t like this piloting arrangement could get any worse, anyway.

There was silence for a long time, except for the soft shuddering sounds of Ikuno’s breathing.

“She…she did that to him on purpose, didn’t she?”

“Zero Two?”

The name actually tasted bitter coming out of his mouth.

“Yes.”

“No, she wasn’t lying. I went and talked to the doctor afterward, actually. They found dead skin and dried blood under his nails, and hers were clean. I mean, she had a point. She was locked into the FRANXX anyway, she couldn’t have done it even if she wanted to. He tore himself up.”

“Is that…true?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would he?”

“I have no idea,” said Hiro dully. “She told me what it was like to pilot with him, though—that it was one of the worst things that ever happened to her. I’ll spare you the details. But she might’ve lost control. Stampeded. And I can’t blame her.”

“You can’t?” whispered Ikuno. “But…if she hadn’t…he’d be okay, wouldn’t he?”

He let out a dry laugh. “Nah. He was fucked the second he climbed into a cockpit with Zero Two. Even if they’d synced and flown together perfectly, he’d still be affected by it—the mutagen, I mean. I asked the doctor about all this stuff, trust me.”

“But he still didn’t know about any of that before they piloted together.”

“He couldn’t have.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” said Ikuno hesitantly.

“No,” said Hiro quietly. “Dying scares me, and I know it scares him. Some part of me feels pity for him, because of that. But I won’t mourn him, because Mitsuru could have chosen not to do what he did. And if he was capable of doing that, he would’ve also been able to treat you with kindness, whether he wanted to be your partner or not. And then none of it would ever have happened in the first place.”

A long silence. White pinpricks were sparkling in his vision.

“Whatever you say,” said Ikuno, in a very soft voice.

“Want to trade places again? Or are you done for the day?”

He heard the click of a switch being flipped, and a moment later the lights on the inside of the simulator—designed to emulate the HUD of a FRANXX—began to glow. The little chamber was filled with a mechanical hum, one he’d heard a hundred times in the past week, like the heartbeat of the machine. Ikuno was activating it.

“I changed my mind again, actually. Let’s try it.”

* * *

There was a blond-haired boy—a boy? a man? a youth—standing with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window at the steadily darkening expanse of snow. He turned when he heard Ichigo enter the room, revealing a face composed of sharp angles and eyes with bright yellow-green irises. Something about him looked familiar to her—familiar and alien. It was a strange impression.

“Oh, it’s you!” he said enthusiastically, crossing the room to greet her as Goro followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Delighted to meet you at last.”

Ichigo hoisted a pleasant smile onto her own face and extended her hand to shake. “Code 016. I’m Squad 13’s captain. This is—”

The youth took her proffered hand delicately in both of his own and bent to kiss the back of it. His lips were cold. Ichigo’s skin crawled, and she resisted the urge to tear her hand away from him. What the hell was he doing?

“Code 056,” finished Goro, speaking a little louder than was necessary. “Would you mind letting go of my partner?”

“Of course,” said the youth at once, grinning and letting go of Ichigo’s hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s an old human custom.” His eyes flicked between their two faces. “I’m Nine Alpha. I’m the Nines’ captain.”

“Alpha?” repeated Ichigo. “Nines?”

“Oh, our designations are separate from the parasite program’s.”

“You’re not part of the parasite program?” said Goro, sounding confused.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” said Nine Alpha, still grinning. “Sorry, I know you all’ve been moving from one confusion to the next since you arrived. If we’re lucky, you’ll have the chance to meet the others later this week, except for Iota. Unfortunately, we’ve got a lot on our plates.”

“Thanks for taking the time to meet us, then.”

“My privilege. My partner is injured, so it’s the least I could do.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Ichigo awkwardly.

“We Nines are tough. They’ll be combat-ready in a couple days. But I appreciate the sentiment.” Alpha nodded and moved toward the window again. “Come over here.”

They followed. The sun had nearly set, and the sky above the horizon was fading from purple to midnight blue.

“What do you see?”

“Snow,” said Goro.

“Nothing,” said Ichigo.

“Really?” Alpha sounded a little disappointed.

“Hang on.” Ichigo bent closer to the window, squinting. Something _was_ visible out there—or somethings. The surface of the snow had looked perfectly flat and even, but it wasn’t: there were in fact hundreds—possibly thousands—of criss-crossing channels worn into the snow’s surface, like the tracks left by something huge being dragged across the ground; she had almost been too high up to see them.

“What are those?” she asked. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“What are what?” muttered Goro.

“There are…tracks? Do you see the lines? But—” she glanced back at Alpha. “Those can’t be from klaxosaurs, there are too many of them. What are they?”

“Excellent question,” said Alpha, his characteristic grin back on his face. “Want to know something ironic? The reason Plantation One was built here was as a safety precaution.”

“Yeah, we know that,” said Ichigo. “They don’t like cold and high altitude.”

“Exactly,” said Alpha. “Do you know how klaxosaurs react to cold? It causes their body temperatures to drop, and they move sluggishly—they’re like reptiles in that regard. They’ll avoid places like this at all costs, unless something forces them to do so.”

“Right,” said Ichigo. There was an uncomfortable prickling on the back of her neck; it had started the second Alpha dodged her question, and was only worsening as he skirted around the issue. “Nana said something like that, too. Do you know what’s causing them to attack Plantation One?”

“I have my theories. Nothing concrete, and it doesn’t really matter anyway, not while we have our job to do. My point being, of course, that it’s virtually impossible to detect a cold klaxosaur using thermal imaging.”

Her palms tingled.

“So…those are…”

“Klaxosaur tracks,” said Alpha pleasantly. He placed one hand on Ichigo’s shoulder, and the other on Goro’s. “There are thousands of them crawling under our feet at this very moment. Cockroaches in the foundations. They’re searching for a way to get inside. We’re going to slaughter every single one of them.”

_Time to find out how well this whole “roommate program” thing works._

_You think anyone enjoyed it as much as us?_ said Goro, sardonic.

_Nobody has killed their partner yet. So, probably._

“Squad 13, sound off. Delphinium standing by.”

“Argentea, standing by.” Miku sounded a little more chipper than usual. She was probably enjoying the opportunity to finally get out and about.

“Genista, standing by.”

“I read you,” said Ichigo. “You know the drill. Follow your routes. Thermal isn’t any good out here, so rely on sonic imaging and visuals. Check in at twenty-minute intervals.”

“I hope Ikuno-chan and Hiro-kun are able to sync soon,” said Kokoro plaintively. “It’s so lonely with only the six of us out here.”

Silence met her remark.

“Move out,” ordered Ichigo, and the paired boosters of the other two FRANXX flared yellow-orange in the darkness. Within moments, they’d shrunk to specks in the edges of her vision. She switched channels. “Beta, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear. Code 015? You sound _adorable_.”

The knot in her stomach tightened. “Keep the chatter to a minimum, if you don’t mind.”

 _I can’t stand that guy,_ said Goro. _If the rest of the Nines are as creepy as him and Alpha, I’m just gonna move back to Plantation 13._

_You and me both._

“Roger that, 015,” said Nine Beta in her ear. “Oh, and welcome to Hell.”

* * *

The thread connecting them snapped, and physical sensation returned to her in a rush, like she was being doused with a bucket of cold water. Her face was coated with sweat. The joints of her fingers were aching painfully where she’d been gripping the armrests.

“You good?” murmured Hiro aloud.

It’d been so long since she’d synced with anyone that the sensation felt unsettling and alien again, like it had when she’d first begun training. The cockpit’s dim interior lights flickered on. They made the tiny chamber more claustrophobic, rather than less.

“I think so.” She was panting.

“You did it. Nice job.”

“What did you see?”

“Hot cocoa, I think. Nothing else that I could recognize, just flashes.”

“Hot cocoa,” she repeated. “From Gifting Day. I miss that. It was delicious.” There was a tension in her chest that was easing. She hadn’t realized that she was afraid of his answer.

“Wish we could’ve come back here for Gifting Day,” said Hiro.

“Me too.” Ikuno flexed and unflexed her fingers a few times, trying to work out the tension. She had to practice now, while her brain and body were still too overwhelmed to panic. “Let me know when you’re ready to go again.”

Her interim partner was silent for a few seconds.

“Hiro.”

“Hey, Ikuno.”

“Wake up. This was your idea.”

“Is it going to bother you, seeing Zero Two?”

Ikuno could see his body recoil every time he said Zero Two’s name. It was the most pathetic thing she’d ever seen, other than her own reflection. “What do you mean? She was your partner, not mine.”

“I feel like syncing with someone who’s thinking about another person is…lonely.”

_Lonely?_

“I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t make it less lonely.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Ikuno. “I hate syncing. But it’s not like you can do anything about it.”

Hiro let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. “I didn’t really think I could. I just wanted you to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you hate doing this.”

“You knew that already.”

“But you never actually _told_ me until now.”

She looked down at her own hands, barely visible in the dark, knuckles still white from gripping the controls. “I didn’t realize I needed to spell it out for you.”

“You did,” he said. “Because you act like it’s your fault, or that you’re a bad partner or something, or that you’re syncing wrong. But you’re smart enough to know none of those are true. Stop pretending everything is okay, Ikuno. Stop hiding. It’s not going to get easier the longer you try.”

“And do _what_ , Hiro?” she shouted. “If I can’t pilot, they don’t need me! What do you think happens to parasites that nobody needs? Or are the double digits so _special_ that you don’t even know that?”

Heat was rushing to her face. When was the last time she’d raised her voice at all, much less toward another member of Squad 13?

“See?” he said. “Told you. You know it’s fucked. Everything is fucked.”

“I hate being in here. I’m so tired of forcing myself to do this.”

“Who wouldn’t be? You’re sick of being used. They never let you pick your partner. They never even asked if you wanted to fly.”

“And I don’t,” she said, balling her hands into fists. She wanted to pound them on the armrests, but that would probably hurt. “I hate flying. Syncing feels so disgusting. Every time I do it, I just want to—to tear my skin off.”

“Yeah. I can tell.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Why is everyone else happy? What am I doing wrong?”

“I don’t know if they’re happy. But I know everyone else in the squad chose their partner.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Other than Naomi, obviously. You two never got to choose anything.”

“I wish it was that simple,” said Ikuno bitterly. “That would be nice. Even if I got to choose, it wouldn’t make piloting any easier.”

Her heart was pounding. Something inside her had snapped, and all of her pent-up fury and loneliness was going to burst out, and if she started shouting again she wouldn’t be able to stop. There was something horribly satisfying about it—about making _someone_ listen to her—about making another human being, regardless of who it was, acknowledge how miserable and frustrated she had been for so long.

“Who would you pick, then?” said Hiro. “If you could choose anyone.”

The simulator timed out with a soft beep, and the cockpit interior lights faded. The two of them were bathed in complete darkness again. She’d almost answered the question before she caught herself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he added. “But it’ll be satisfying to say it out loud, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I see what you mean, I think. But I’ll pass. I already told h—”

She caught herself again.

“Nice,” said Hiro. “I’m glad. I kind of thought you were never going to.”

“Wait…” said Ikuno quietly. “Did you know already?”

He sighed. “Zero Two knew, but she didn’t tell me who it was. But it’s a girl, isn’t it? That’s why you hate syncing, right? The adults make you pilot with boys.”

The tears came, then. Her vision blurred. They were thick and fast, streaming down her cheeks onto her lap. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t wanted to cry anymore.

“You know they made that rule up?” added Hiro, his voice thick with derision. “The ‘one boy, one girl’ thing. All the fucking rules are made up. Like how two people can’t sync if a girl is in the stamen position. They just need boy-girl pairs for something. They’re using us.”

“That can’t be right,” Ikuno mumbled. “You need boy/girl pairs to pilot FRANXX. They…they need FRANXX. They need us.” She was seized by a bizarre desire to laugh. “They wouldn’t lie about that.”

“ _She_ did it,” he said, and she could tell he was gritting his teeth. “Flew with girls. She told me some of their codes, even. You can ask Nana about them if you want.”

“You’re lying.”

“Remember Garden? When all the kids would sleep together, bundled up, with those huge pillows?”

“Yeah.”

“From what she told me, I think it feels like that.”

Ikuno bit her lip to control her urge to laugh. There was no way it could be true. Not if she’d spent the better part of nineteen years trying and failing—no, _not_ failing—to accept that limitation, and pretend that everything was fine and that syncing wasn’t as foul as her brain told her it was. The adults would have known—would have watched her grow up. Nana had seen how unhappy she was. If there was a way out, Nana would have given it to her.

“You’re lying.”

* * *

_Goro._

_I’m here._

_Why are there—_

_—so many of these things? No idea._

_Alpha said there were thousands. But even then…why are their tracks still this thick, so far away from the plantation?_

_Dunno._

_Goro._

_On it._

Goro had read the request in her mind already. As the spotlights flickered off, the stars overhead grew in brilliance a hundredfold. If the surface they were standing on hadn’t been pure white, sparkling very faintly with reflected moonlight, they might as well have been floating in space.

He watched as Ichigo remembered the sensation of cold air in her lungs, and the little puffs of warm air like cotton balls that would spill out of her mouth as she breathed. He remembered them, too, the rare Garden days when they were allowed outside, wrapped like cocoons in thick layers of warm clothing, rarely straying more than an arm’s length away from each other as they made snow angels and packed snowballs, as though the great freezing white void would pounce on any parasite who was too far from his brothers and spirit him away to never be seen again.

In the cold, the tip of Ichigo’s nose used to turn red. That was cute. He missed seeing it.

 _Don’t get distracted,_ she said.

_I haven’t gotten distracted once in my entire life._

_Hmm. I actually almost believe that._

The glare of the spotlights returned in an instant, and he blinked, his eyes adjusting to the brightness. _Ichigo?_

_I felt something._

Now that she mentioned it, he felt something too: a very distant rumbling or grinding sensation, certainly not audible, so faint it was almost imperceptible. It wasn’t Delphinium; the neural interface was built to eliminate tactile feedback sent to the pilots’ brains from their own bodies sitting in the chair, so as not to interfere with signals from outside.

Ichigo acted first, a millisecond before he reached the same conclusion she had. Delphinium’s dual curved swords unsheathed; she boosted three meters off the ground and hovered, as the two blades transitioned from black to red to yellow-hot.

 _Threat detection via instinct?_ said Goro. _I’m just gonna say it, I prefer thermal imaging._

_Well, this makes us look cooler._

He couldn’t argue with that, and even if he had tried, there wouldn’t be time for it. The surface of the snow directly beneath their feet swelled like an expanding bubble.

 _Like a bubble?_ said Ichigo. _Gross._

A klaxosaur burst out of the ground, clearing the surface by a solid two meters and snapping hopelessly at Delphinium’s ankles. It was long and writhing, like a worm or a leech, only with two grotesque stubby arms protruding from either side, and its scaly black hide was crusted with snow. Its mouth was circular and jawless with rings of concentric teeth—like the one that Hiro and Zero Two had skewered, so long ago that it felt like a previous lifetime.

_That’s weird. Aren’t they usually—_

_—shaped more like animals?_ finished Ichigo. _Yeah. Maybe this helps them burrow?_

The klaxosaur wriggled helplessly on its “back” for a moment, and then with a sudden movement, as though someone had flipped a switch inside it, it righted itself and began to slither away.

_So that’s where the tracks came from._

_Weird,_ said Goro. _And it doesn’t look efficient._

_Goro._

_I read you._

Ichigo felt the familiar swooping sensation in her stomach as her partner engaged the boosters.

The klaxosaur was certainly traveling faster than it looked like it should be able to, with a strange snakelike motion, but it was no match for the speed of a FRANXX. Delphinium pinned it to the ground, using the tip of her sword; she felt it penetrate the thing’s hide—first the top layer, then the bottom—and dig into the soil below. Steam boiled off of the heated blade, and the klaxosaur’s blood splashed onto the snow.

She sheathed her other sword and, with a slight effort, lifted the klaxosaur by its jaw like a caught fish. It dangled pathetically. It was barely four meters long from tip to tail.

_You don’t recognize it, do you?_

_Nah,_ said Goro. _Hardly seems dangerous, though. If there are hundreds at once, then maybe. But from what Alpha said—_

_Yeah, he didn’t make it sound this, uh, underwhelming._

_Are you complaining?_

Goro saw the answer in her head, but it was common courtesy to allow your partner to verbalize their thoughts, even during a sync.

 _I’ll be honest,_ she said. _This is kinda fun._

_No kidding. Better than sitting inside all day._

Goro activated the comms link. “Hey, Beta.”

“I hear you, Delphinium. Are you enjoying the starry night together?”

He ignored the question. “We caught a klaxosaur. It’s like a worm with two arms, about four meters long. Are these the same type you guys have been seeing?”

“The Hermann-class.” Beta made a noise that could be described as a giggle. “Stay sharp, 056. Those things will kill you if you aren’t careful.”

 _That’s the first time I’ve heard the term “Hermann-class”_ , said Ichigo.

_Yeah, I was positive Nana never said anything about this._

“Thanks for the advice, Beta. I think we can handle ourselves.”

“I hope so!” said the Nines pilot cheerfully. “I doubt you two can handle what happened to Delta. Just watch your back. Those things are _everywhere_.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Oh, and if you need to ping me again, put 015 on instead. I’d much rather listen to—”

Goro cut the link before the Nines pilot could finish his sentence. He ignited the boosters again, hovering at three meters. The paired jets formed pools of melting snow below them.

 _None of them are taking this seriously,_ said Ichigo. _I don’t like it._

 _They’re definitely not taking_ us _seriously._ Delphinium released her grip on the klaxosaur, and its carcass crumpled into a ball on the snow. _“Those things can kill you if you’re not careful”? Give me a fucking break._

 _We’re at the end of the route,_ Ichigo observed. _Let’s circle back._

_On it._

_And we should check in with the others in 3._

He didn’t answer.

 _Goro._ Her tone was gentler than normal. _Don’t worry about Beta._

_I’m not worrying._

_I need your mind on the mission, not on what some creep said to me. He doesn’t bother me. I promise._

_You’re squad leader, not just my partner. You’re the same rank as him. So—_

_I know._

_He’d better apologize,_ he said impatiently. _I’ll make him do it if I have to._

 _Yeah, do that,_ agreed Ichigo. _For now, focus for me, please._

He would’ve stood up and paced back and forth and run his fingers through his hair if he could. The sealed cockpit of a FRANXX didn’t allow for indulgences, unfortunately, so instead he began solving a visualized representation of Ichigo’s wooden puzzle gift.

_You really liked it that much?_

_It’s perfect._

Ichigo’s sudden happiness was like sitting next to a roaring fire.

“Squad 13, check in. Everyone here?”

“All three of us.” Miku’s voice. Ichigo heard her sigh over the link. “Argentea reporting. There’s nothing out here, Squad Leader. Just snow and stars.”

“Genista checking in,” said Kokoro, a few seconds later. “Same here.”

“Hey, at least we’re not stuck inside, right?” said Zorome unenthusiastically.

“We _are_ inside,” grumbled Miku.

“That’s what I—”

“Ichigo-chan,” interrupted Kokoro. “Did you see anything?”

Goro retrieved a snapshot of the dead Hermann-class klaxosaur from Delphinium’s visual memory and sent it to the other four pilots. There were several seconds of silence as they processed what they were looking at.

“Gross,” said Miku.

“You always say that,” said Zorome.

“Well, it is.”

“I believe these are the things leaving the tracks,” said Ichigo. “From what Alpha told us. Beta called them ‘Hermann-class’. They don’t seem particularly dangerous, but we _were_ lucky to detect this one without thermal. Fortunately they don’t have much vertical range, so hover whenever you have the fuel.”

“These are the things terrorizing the plantation?” queried Futoshi doubtfully. “Looks like you could just stomp on ‘em.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Ichigo reminded him testily. “We’ve been caught off guard enough times already, and we don’t have Strelizia or Chlorophytum to back us up.”

“Can’t argue with that,” said Futoshi glumly.

“Stay alert. Check in in another 20.”

“Roger,” said the other four pilots in unison.

“Delphinium out.”

_I’m gonna be so sore after this._

_Same,_ said Ichigo. _I can’t stand all-nighters. At least we don’t do them often._

 _For now,_ he grumbled. _With patrol missions, though—_

_Shut up and let me pretend this is the last time we’ll ever have to do this._

_Hey, you said you were having fun._

The sensation he received via his link with Ichigo was identical to what he would have heard if she had let out a very loud, exasperated groan. It was extraordinarily Ichigo. This was one of the few things Goro really loved about piloting.

 _Stop it,_ she said. _I just thought about the beach trip we took. That would be_ heavenly _after sitting in a FRANXX for eight hours._

_God damn it. Now I want to swim too._

_I’m so annoyed._

_Maybe Plantation One has a pool. It’s got to, right? 13 does, we used it for that microgravity training stuff. I’ll ask Nana._

_I’ll pray for you,_ said Ichigo.

_And if that doesn’t work, we can just seal one of those little shower cubicles and fill it up with water._

_That isn’t funny, because I’ll probably be desperate enough to actually do it._

Goro, on the verge of forming a mental image of Ichigo nude and suspended in a cube full of water, caught himself in time.

_Goro._

His heart skipped a beat. _Sorry. I was—_

But Ichigo wasn’t paying attention. She was focused intently, and when he concentrated, he could feel it too: the faint mechanical humming noise that heralded the approach of a klaxosaur, the sensation that almost seemed to be emanating from within Delphinium herself.

She boosted into the air again, the abrupt orange-yellow flash blinding against the snow. Black shapes burst out of the ground below her. Two Hermanns this time—no, three, their stubby little deformed arms reaching upward uselessly, their circular mouths gnawing at the air below her feet.

 _Good save,_ said Goro. _So this is their only trick, huh?_

Ichigo was ready. Before the worm-things had managed to right themselves and slither away, she had pinned down the two nearest to them, one with each of her matched swords; with a swift motion she drew both blades along the length of their bodies from tip to tail, and they split open like overripe fruits.

 _Very clean,_ thought Goro to himself. Like filleting a fish. He felt Ichigo acknowledge the compliment briefly.

Before either of them could move, and instead of slithering away, like the first one they had met, the third klaxosaur launched itself into the air with a spasmodic motion, and before Goro had time to process what was happening, it had latched onto Delphinium’s right shoulder using its circular rows of teeth. Ichigo flinched, more out of surprise than pain, and raised her left arm to tear the thing off of her.

There was a hideous sound. A drill bit grinding against bone. A jarring screech inside his head.

“Ichigo!”

It took him a split second to realize that he’d spoken aloud. The connection had splintered. Shapes swam in his vision. He was back to his own senses. She was sitting in front of him, recoiling from the neural interface, her back arching in pain, her breathing labored.

“Ichigo. Ichigo!”

_Don’t panic. Slow down. Think._

He didn’t dare try to pull her out. Being force-detached from a FRANXX was disorienting enough for a pistil in ideal conditions; with his partner in this state, God only knew what would happen to her if the neural link was severed unexpectedly.

The metal joint of Delphinium’s right shoulder was creaking in protest. _Thud._ An impact on her hull, and— _thud_ —another, heavier this time. Without the restraints, Goro would’ve been thrown against the ceiling.

 _Think._ More klaxosaurs. It had to be. Were they communicating with each other? This must be how they hunted—they could immobilize a FRANXX this way—however they did that—it was like the giant one that had attacked Plantation 13—and overwhelm it with numbers? Why hadn’t Alpha said anything about—

Ichigo’s spine bent so sharply he thought she was going to snap in half. Goro was thankful, for the only time in his life, that the neural link prevented his partner from speaking aloud, because he knew she would be screaming. His jaw was clenched so tightly from the memory of the horrible screeching noise that he felt the muscle pop. They had to sync again, so that they could fly this robot before it became their shared grave—with Ichigo still attached, he wouldn’t be able to use the comms system to send out a distress signal. There was no other way. He forced his unwilling hands and fingers to move.

_Go._

_“Hi, Ichigo! Happy Gifting Day!”_

_He looks awkward today, somehow. It’s not like him. Normally when you look in Hiro’s eyes, you can tell his brain is going five hundred miles an hour. He’s always determined about something. He’s always got ideas and he’s sure that they’ll work. Probably has something to do with Gifting Day. Our first one. The adults only told us about it a week ago. I bet they didn’t want us to get too excited and stop paying attention in class. If that was their plan, it didn’t work._

_I hope he didn’t worry too much. He already gave me the best gift I’ve ever gotten._

_He looks like he’s not trying to run as he comes in._

_“Hi, Hiro,” I say. “Happy Gifting Day to you too.”_

_“Here!” He thrusts out his closed fist toward me, palm up. “I got…I got you something.”_

_I brush my hair out of my eyes and reach out to take it, but it looks like he’s too excited to contain himself. His hand is touching my hair suddenly—he’s close. I blush now. His fingertips are warm, and his face is set in concentration—the expression that gives me butterflies in my stomach. The thing in his hand is cold and smooth. Metal. Then he backs away a step. My bangs don’t fall into my eyes like they normally do._

_“There,” he says._

_I check my reflection in the window. It’s a hair clip, silver-colored, shaped like a swan. It’s sparkling like a gemstone. Is it even real? It looks like something out of a dream._

_“You’re always brushing your hair out of your eyes,” he says. “I thought that would help. And it looks good on you.”_

_I can’t think of anything to say._

_Goro’s been off since Gifting Day. He doesn’t like people knowing he’s upset, so he’s good at hiding it. From the others, anyway. I’m not afraid of talking to him about it, but I know he’s just going to grin and shrug it off. Maybe this is just normal for partners. I really hope it isn’t._

_“Goro.”_

_His face never changes, but he always scratches the back of his neck when he’s nervous. You fell into my trap, Goro. During dinnertime, there’s nowhere for you to run._

_“Hi,” he says._

_“Is everything okay?”_

_The chatter in the dining hall is loud._

_“I think so?” he says. “Do I look sick or something?”_

_“Not like that. Are you mad at me?”_

_“Mad?” He sounds bewildered._

_“You’ve been acting weird for a few days.”_

_The expression on Goro’s face changes just the tiniest bit. Not enough for anyone to notice, except me._

_“I’m okay,” he says. “Just tired from training.”_

_“You’re lying.”_

_“Am not. Wake up, Ichigo.”_

_“Huh?”_

_“Ichigo. Can you hear me?”_

She could neither see nor feel. The hideous roaring screech was loud enough to grind her bones and teeth to dust, so loud that it was splashing across her vision as blindingly bright blotches of color, crushing her with a giant metal fist. It was the only thing that existed.

 _Ichigo,_ she thought. _I’ve heard that before._

Another sound, different from the colorful one. A voice? It had formed a word.

_Ichigo!_

What is that?

_Ichigo, come back!_

Shapes in her mind, coalescing out of the howling blur, shapes with defined boundaries. A pair of glasses. A shock of blond hair. It was a boy, calling out that word, over and over and over again. It was something Goro would say.

 _Ichigo_. _“Ichigo” is me._

There was a hand extended toward her. She took it. It was a familiar hand.

_Ichigo, for the love of all that is holy,—_

_I’m here, Goro._

_What’s your code?_

_Code 015. Or oh-ichi-go, in Japanese numerals._

_What comes after four?_

_Five, like my code. Then six, like Hiro. Then seven. Seven is “Nana.” Eight is “Hachi.”_

He was really going to start crying now, out of relief and pain—he wasn’t sure which one was more intense. The grinding sensation was agonizing beyond belief. Ichigo had been trapped inside that. She was intact. She remembered him. The sync was as fragile as spider silk, but Ichigo was still there.

 _There are klaxosaurs attacking us,_ she said. _Call the squad._

_On it._

Goro located the activator toggle for the distress signal. An intent was forming in Ichigo’s mind. He had to buy her time.

Delphinium raised her chassis to a standing position with a blast of energy from the boosters. Four seconds left. Hermann-class klaxosaurs were wriggling at her feet like a mess of leeches. Another had attached itself to the side of her waist. She gripped the one on her right shoulder and pulled. Its body yielded before its teeth did, and blood splattered across her chest. Two seconds.

_Distress signal is looping._

_Thanks, Goro._

_Get out of there. Now._

Her pilots detached, and Delphinium curled into a ball with a spasmodic motion and crashed to the ground, the lights on her face panel blinking out. Goro wrapped both arms tightly around the limp Ichigo and tucked his chin into his chest. The pilot seat’s restraints creaked and his teeth rattled with the impact, and before the rumbling noise had subsided, there were scrabbling noises across Delphinium’s hull as the Hermanns swarmed over her, searching for a way inside.

There was no need for him to physically protect his partner, even if she was unconscious—there was no safer place in the cockpit than the cradle. He knew that perfectly well. It made no difference. Neither Argentea nor Genista was fast enough to get here in time: they were both going to die. He wanted to die holding Ichigo.


	12. Darling in the FRANXX

Five faces of the cube—three walls, the floor, and the ceiling—were featureless gray concrete, chipped in places and icy to the touch. The fourth wall was glass, floor to ceiling, and at least six inches thick: a window that looked out over an endless expanse of snow under a blanket of stars.

The girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, so close to the window that her knees were almost touching it, had sakura-blossom-colored hair that was so long it was pooling on the concrete floor around her. It was the only thing in the room that the moonlight had not bleached gray. The girl could have been a statue, except for the slight rhythmic motion of her breathing. She had not moved for thirty-two hours.

A white plastic rectangle, palm-sized but heavy, skidded across the floor and stopped when it bumped against her thigh. The blonde youth standing in the doorway had tossed it at her. She could see his pointed, angular face in the reflection on the glass. His customary lazy smile was missing; his arms were crossed, and he looked tired.

“Iota,” he said. “Don’t _lose_ that one, too, please. I’m tired of cleaning up after you.”

“Really?” said the girl at the window. “That’s disappointing.”

“HQ’s got another two candidates for you. Candidate one will land around noon tomorrow. Candidate two is already here. Meet him in the hangar at 0300.”

“Already here,” she murmured. “I see. What’s his code?”

The youth’s gaze moved from her curtain of pink hair to the little white thing lying on the floor next to her. “You’re out of Squad 13, Iota. You’re a Nine now. Forget 016, and move on. If you care that much, ask the doctor, but knowing the code isn’t gonna keep your stamen alive any longer.”

She picked up the plastic thing in her left hand. Her knuckles whitened; blood dripped from her palm, drawn by pointed nails nearly an inch long—claw-like. The casing and circuitry shattered, and she flung the remains of the communicator against the opposite wall.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

When they’d first landed in Plantation One, Zorome had remembered how much he liked the way snowfall made everything quieter. It was always snowing around Garden.

Maybe everything positive about Garden would be ruined eventually. Patrol missions were boring enough as it was. With utter silence draped over them like a blanket, and featureless snow stretching in every direction outside the range of Argentea’s spotlights, he was feeling something he’d never felt in a cockpit before: loneliness.

_Wow, typical. You’re inside my brain and you still feel lonely._

Of course Miku was listening.

 _Not like that,_ he said. _If our navigation system malfunctions, or we run out of fuel, or whatever. Imagine. Nobody would be able to find us._

 _Actually, I’d rather_ not _imagine that._

_Trapped far away from home, in a snowstorm, with only each other for comfort…sounds romantic, right?_

_If necessary,_ said Miku, _I would kill you and eat your remains._

_Likewise._

There was a blaring discordant tritone alarm sounding in Argentea’s cockpit. He’d heard it before. That noise was barely familiar, somehow. It was on the edge of his memory. What was it?

It was hard to describe what sharing a cockpit with Miku was like. He assumed it was equally difficult for any of the other stamens in the squad. At best, he could say that she was constantly on the verge of bursting into laughter at him. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation—that was just how Miku was. But upon hearing the alarm, she—or Argentea—had turned around instantly and engaged the boosters at full power so that he could faintly feel the G-forces pressing against his real body. And Miku was not laughing at him, for once. She was concentrating.

What is that sound?

 _Distress signal,_ said Miku. _You remember the drills._

He did. The words recalled the faint memory that had been tickling the edge of his brain. There were only two cases in which FRANXX used distress signals, rather than direct verbal communication between units; first, if one of the pilots engaged emergency mode, which would shut down a FRANXX’s critical systems—besides life support—and lock down her hull. The second case was if one or both of the pilots had died.

They didn’t have time to argue, nor ask each other questions. Genista was too far away, and too slow. The Nines, running on a different comms frequency, wouldn’t have detected the alarm. Zorome disabled the safety and maxed the afterburners. In this configuration, Argentea would exceed 400 kilometers per hour in three seconds, and in thirty-eight seconds she would start to suffer structural damage from the heat overspill. Lucky that they were up on the plateau that Plantation One inhabited, above the tree line. A collision with anything at this speed would kill them both, safety restraints or not.

 _We’re close,_ Zorome said. _Have to slow down. We’ll be able to see Delphinium in a few seconds._

 _They’re dead,_ said Miku. _They’re both dead. Why else would the distress signal be looping? They’re dead._

 _They are not dead,_ he snapped.

“Argentea, come in.”

“Sir.” _What the hell do you want, Hachi?_

“Argentea, the configuration you’re running is unsupported.”

“Well aware, sir. Delphinium’s sending a distress signal. We don’t have time.”

“Slow it down, Code 666. You’re going to burn out your engines.”

“ _You_ go save them, then,” he snarled, and cut the connection.

_Eleven seconds until Delphinium is in range._

_Give me the controls,_ said Miku.

Argentea descended mid-flight until she contacted the surface of the snow and sank to her knees, spreading them horizontally for stability. The little triangular blip that was Delphinium was barreling toward them on the HUD. And now that they were close, he could see other readings. There were _things_ swarming over her body, more than a dozen of them. Klaxosaurs.

Ichigo and Goro weren’t stupid—how had they gotten caught out like this?

 _I see them, I think,_ said Miku. _Looks like a ton of leeches._

“Goro,” he said aloud. “Ichigo. We’re close. Can you hear me?”

No response.

 _Doesn’t mean they’re dead,_ he told himself stubbornly.

Miku ignored him. Her timing of Argentea’s flight had been nearly perfect; Delphinium’s body loomed suddenly before them, growing larger in the white pool of Argentea’s spotlights, her face blank, curled up in the emergency position.

The black wormlike things were almost covering her. Their ugly jawless mouths were tearing uselessly at her neck. No, not her neck—the seam at her jawline, where the cockpit hatch opened and closed. It took Zorome a long time to understand what he was seeing.

How would a klaxosaur know how to get inside a FRANXX?

Miku had blocked him out, her whole consciousness bound up in concentration. Zorome listened. His partner was staring at the seam, which had been forced apart by several inches.

“Zorome.”

A weak, tinny voice. Comms running on emergency power. Goro was still alive in there.

“Goro?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“Goro! Talk to me, dude. Goro!”

Silence again.

_Miku._

_Don’t touch them,_ repeated Miku. _Okay. This will be tricky, then._

_Just take the cockpit. We can get transport to pick the rest of her up._

_Yeah. That’s smart._

Argentea armed Night Claw. It glowed red-hot in the darkness. The worm-like klaxosaurs had detected the presence of a newcomer: four of them turned toward her. Jawless klaxosaur mouths were facing toward them now, and Zorome could hear their ugly screeches.

 _Sorry in advance, guys,_ Miku said. _We’ll…we’ll ask maintenance to fix you up._

 _They’ll understand,_ said Zorome. _I hope._

_They’d better._

She extended one claw and swiped diagonally from right to left. Delphinium’s spinal column severed. Distilled magma fuel spurted out of one of the cut pipelines, steaming where it landed on the snow.

 _Clean cut,_ said Miku.

Argentea seized Delphinium’s detached head before it had a chance to wobble, and tucked it securely under her arm. With her other hand she continued the swiping motion, slicing two of the worm-like klaxosaurs in half as they launched themselves at her torso.

 _You never told me you knew how to do something like that,_ she said.

_There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you._

Argentea’s boosters roared again. Zorome could feel the pilot’s seat vibrating.

“HQ, come in.”

Hachi’s annoyed voice cut into the silence of the cockpit. “Code 666. If you cut comms during a mission again, you’re going to end up suspended. We—”

“Hachi, we have Delphinium’s crew and they’re unresponsive. Get a medical team to the hangar.”

Hachi’s tone changed instantly. “Acknowledged, 666. Sending a crew to bay 4 now. They’ll be waiting for you. Are the pilots stable?”

“No time to check. There are klaxosaurs here, Hachi.”

“I see.” The voice on the other side of the line hesitated. “Godspeed, then.”

Uniform snow was hurtling past the viewport, identical in every direction. The stars were the only thing that he could still clearly see.

* * *

“You’re lying.”

Ikuno sounded like she was on the verge of laughter.

Hiro said nothing. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Zero Two would lie about—and he snorted as the thought crossed his mind. How could he possibly know what Zero Two would lie about? They had barely known each other by the time she left.

The darkness of the simulator cockpit rested on him like a heavy blanket. The impulse he’d felt to comfort Ikuno, to confide in her, was gone as quickly as it had come. He wanted to be alone again. If he sat here and did not move, perhaps the silence would swallow him up.

_“Is it going to bother you, seeing Zero Two?”_

What a stupid question.

Ikuno’s communicator beeped suddenly. He heard her slide it out of her pocket and flick it open to read the screen—a motion that was automatic for every parasite.

“Time to go,” said Ikuno very quietly, a few seconds later. “Nana wants us in the briefing room.”

“She wants _us?_ ” echoed Hiro numbly. “What for? We can’t fly.”

“Maybe they want us to try anyway,” said Ikuno bitterly. “Guess they’re desperate. Something must have happened.”

Hiro shrugged, then remembered that she couldn’t see him in the darkness.

Ikuno opened the hatch. The simulator room’s overhead lights, dimmed as they were, still made him wince. He wanted to sleep. He was desperate to sleep.

Everyone in 13 was always tired. Nana looked more exhausted than ever.

“Hi, you two,” she said as they entered, hoisting her customary smile onto her face. “Hachi and I were monitoring the simulator readings. You achieved a stable sync, right? Well done.”

Ikuno hugged herself, shivering slightly and looking forlorn. She didn’t acknowledge the praise, nor did Hiro.

“I know it’s only a start,” continued Nana awkwardly, clearly waiting for either of them to speak, “but how do you feel about giving piloting a try?”

“No thanks,” said Hiro. “We aren’t ready.”

“Are you sure? You were Squad 13’s best pilot.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he said stiffly. “Did something happen, Nana? You know we can’t fly yet. Why are you asking?”

“Well…”

The aide clasped her hands behind her back, and her smile twitched. It was Nana’s nervous tic, he remembered, though he barely ever saw it. So something _had_ gone wrong. A month ago, he would have reacted unconsciously to her change in demeanor, and an icy bubble of panic would’ve swelled inside his chest. He felt nothing, now. Something like this had been bound to happen. Squad 13 had never gotten the opportunity to be really prepared for combat.

Ikuno was turning paler, and Hiro could actually see her trembling.

“Who is it?” he said sharply. “Who’s hurt?”

“Delphinium.”

Not “Ichigo.” Not “Goro.” She was talking about both pilots.

“Are they alive?” said Ikuno in a whisper.

“I’m…um…” said Nana hesitantly. “The medical team should be notifying Hachi and myself soon. Once they…have more information.”

Ikuno looked like she was going to vomit. Hiro forced his freezing legs to stir. Nana saw him start to move toward the door and reached out a hand hopelessly to stop him.

“Don’t, Hiro,” she said. “You can’t help them right now. Please…just stay calm and let the doctors work.”

He uttered a laugh, a wooden one that sounded strange to his own ears. “Not going anywhere until I know they’re okay.”

“Hiro, the rest of the team needs you right now just as much as they do.” Nana’s tone had changed a little bit; it was both more stern and less composed. She was biting her lip. Her smile was faltering. There was no point in talking to her. Hiro shook his head and turned away.

“Ikuno,” he said, and she recoiled as though she’d received a sudden electric shock.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m coming too.”

In other circumstances, Hiro might’ve felt a pinch of guilt at the expression on Nana’s face as they left. He was aware that the position she was in was hardly any easier than theirs, and that she was torn—probably now, more than ever—between treating her charges as humans or as APE’s ideally bred tools of war.

It was technically an aide’s responsibility, in this situation, to physically force a parasite to follow orders, or to call for backup if such an action wasn’t feasible. Nana did neither. That was a line she would never cross—not with them.

 _Remember to thank her,_ Hiro told himself. _If both of us are still alive tomorrow._

Even though Miku knew the FRANXX was just a machine, there was something intensely disturbing about seeing Delphinium’s head separated from her body.

She wouldn’t bother berating Zorome about his idea. It’d been the best course of action under the circumstances, not to mention the smartest thing he’d ever come up with. It was nice to be able to think freely, outside Argentea’s cockpit, without him overhearing her thoughts and crowing about the unspoken praise for the next six months.

Good to focus on Zorome being an idiot, as usual. Good to focus on _something_ other than what they might or might not find inside that cockpit. Good not to think about what she’d be forced to see, once the team of four paramedics armed with a hydraulic jack managed to pry open the damaged hatch. She became aware that she was shaking.

“Come on,” said Zorome, in a tone of icy calm, his eyes fixed on the scene just as hers were. “Get it over with. Come on.”

Both of them reacted too late. Zorome reached out and tried to cover his partner’s eyes with his hand, so she wouldn’t have to look at this. Miku jerked away at the moment the paramedics pried the hatch open. No use. There was a split second where everything had been visible and it was burned into her brain now. Goro and Ichigo were bound up in a knot together—the stamen, much larger than his partner, had wrapped himself entirely around her. There was a yawning gash on his back, running from his left shoulder down to the base of his spine, and tattered skin and muscle was visible beneath where his suit had been torn open. Another gash bisected the first, like a giant hand had drawn an X over both of them. It continued from Goro’s back and over his hip to Ichigo’s torso, then down her right leg. They matched.

“Don’t puke,” said Zorome grimly. “Not here.”

“I’m not going to,” said Miku, through gritted teeth.

Neither of Delphinium’s pilots were moving. Ichigo’s skin was chalk-white. Blood was smeared across her uninjured face and neck—probably from where she had been held by her partner, who was so soaked with blood that he reminded Miku of the feral Strelizia, down in the mines, what felt like a hundred years ago.

“Their eyes are closed,” muttered Zorome.

“What?”

“If they were dead, their eyes would be open, right? ‘Cause you don’t close your eyes when you’re dead. So I think they just passed out. I bet they freaked out from getting attacked by klaxosaurs and everything. I bet they’re going to be fine.”

He was talking. He was just saying words. Silence would mean there was nothing to distract them. White-gloved hands peeled the two unmoving parasites apart and transferred them both onto hovering gurneys and strapped oxygen masks over their faces. There were oxygen masks and IV bags and then a dozen other medical apparatus that Miku had never bothered to learn the names of, the ones for which Ichigo probably knew all the functions by heart, because she was the squad leader and the squad leader needed to know that kind of thing.

“They’d better not die,” said Miku aloud. She heard her voice shaking. “They can’t.”

* * *

skin feels like sand is trapped in it. like slippers worn once at the beach when nobody had warned her the insides will get all gritty, you should rinse them out before we all go up into the forest or your feet’ll be sore when we get back. wash it off in the salty ocean water. icy ocean water. droplets get caught in his eyelashes and they shimmer when he blinks. he has such long eyelashes. don’t use his name. parasites don’t have names.

fifteen minutes left. not enough time for a bath. baths don’t help anymore.

_I want a bath._

_What are you trying to wash off?_

six minutes.

should’ve geared up earlier. pistil suit is tight, like a sock two sizes too small. harder to think about the sensation of sand. a gleaming shiny new Nines-series suit cherry-red like your horns. one time you thought you were going to swap this suit out for one of the accented white ones, like what the humans wear. nice try, iota. why would a beast fit in human clothes?

Iota tried to ignore scents around her now. Too many signals from too many directions, too many colors inside her head. She’d gotten good at blocking out unwanted memories, but smells had an uncomfortable tendency to bypass the filter and recall memories directly. FRANXX reeked of blood the same way klaxosaurs did. Battle stench. Could never get rid of it. Maybe the humans couldn’t smell it, so they had never tried to look for a way. Or maybe they thought parasites performed better in such an environment. That’s what the doctor would say.

There was a familiar scent that she couldn’t recall in the hallway leading down to hangar bay 6. Not a FRANXX, nor any of the other Nines. Wasn’t _him_ , either, and all the other scents that came from inside the sterile plantations had long since started blending together inside her head, so the fact that she couldn’t place this one made her uneasy. What else would she remember? A chemical smell.

There was a stamen sitting on one of the flimsy plastic benches that lined the wall. Almost unrecognizable—it was only the presence of the scent that helped her remember. Thin blonde hair so pale it was almost silver, and sunken bags under his eyes so deep that he might not have slept in a month. And somehow, whatever rough treatment he’d received at APE’s hands notwithstanding, the expression on his face was still cool and aloof, as she suspected it probably would be until the day he died. Armed guards standing near him, one at each shoulder. They were wasting their effort. That boy no longer had the will to run.

“Nine Iota,” said one of the guards promptly as she entered.

Code 326’s lidded eyes were fixed on her, and his forehead was slick with sweat. Not in reaction to seeing her—it must have started long before she arrived. He was falling apart. It happened to all of them in the end.

She almost smiled. Something comforting, finally. This was the place a monster belonged. 326 had wanted to fly with her, to prove that _that boy_ wasn’t special.

_I tried to warn you, didn’t I?_

“Can he even sync?” said Iota, inclining her head at 326, her throat dry and voice hoarse from disuse. “He looks weak.”

“He’s stable, for now,” said the guard rapidly. “His condition may degrade under stress, so stay on your toes.”

“Whatever,” she said, staring at the pale boy. “Get up, then.”

326 didn’t move until the other guard—the one who had not spoken—prodded his shoulder sharply with the end of his rifle. Iota’s skin was beginning to crawl again. Still no bath. Even the pistil suit wasn’t helping as much as it had been ten minutes ago. Had to get in the FRANXX soon. 326 was moving slowly.

“Where are we?”

First time she’d heard that voice in over a month. She did not miss it.

“Plantation One.”

“Plantation One,” he said slowly. “That’s funny.”

Iota wasn’t sure what made it funny, but she was not interested in asking.

“Hey, Nine Iota.”

“What?”

“How many partners have you killed?”

“Dunno,” she said. “I stopped counting a long time ago. A lot. Over a hundred, I think.”

“What about Delta? How many have they killed?”

“Delta?” repeated Iota, with a flicker of surprise. “Why are you asking about Delta?”

“Oh,” he said. “I met them in the medical ward. Their neck is all torn up.”

“I doubt any of the other Nines have killed any partners. They don’t fly with humans.”

“Oh, I see.”

Iota found herself wondering, despite her better judgment, why 326 had been buried deep in Plantation One’s medical ward all this time. That train of thought was not a good rabbit hole to go down, because it was probably the doctor’s idea, and the doctor’s ideas were never good.

Every soft _clunk_ of boot sole on floor was worsening her headache. She wished she could have just gone and gotten in Strelizia and waited for them to deliver her a stamen, rather than this unpleasant process—which was ostensibly designed to give her the chance to assess her partner on her own and reject them if they seemed incompatible. There was nothing to assess.

“Did you kill Hiro too? Is that why you’re back here?”

His tone was flat and unreadable, and his pale eyes were unmoving. She could not tell if he was trying to provoke her. Weak attempt, if he was. Not that it mattered. The Iota that would rise up angrily and speak in her own defense, the Iota that would take the bait and shout at a human—that Iota had died under a different name in a little attic bedroom hundreds of miles away.

“I don’t think so. He was fine when I left.”

“You left,” said 326. “Why?”

Iota shrugged. She had no interest in explaining the whole situation to anyone, least of all this pale-eyed stamen.

“Did he come around?” mused 326. “Finally decided he didn’t belong with a partner who wants to use him up and toss him aside like all the others?”

She said nothing.

“Good for him,” said 326. “I thought he was going to sit back and let you suck him dry and then move on to your next host. He decided to stand up for himself for once. Too bad it’s too late. But I guess it was worth it for him, huh?”

“Too late?” said Iota slowly.

“You’re not _this_ stupid,” said 326. “There’s no way you forgot. Or have you killed so many stamens that you lost track? Hiro piloted with you even before I did. He’s got two days’ head start on me, and the nurse told me I have six weeks left to live, at most. Because of you. So—”

“Oh,” said Iota, “that.”

“Yeah, _that_ ,” said 326 coldly. “That little _hiccup_. The one you didn’t bother warning me about. Or him.”

“Oh, well, at the time, I thought it might upset you,” said Iota. “You seemed _really_ determined to fly with me, to prove Da—016 wasn’t all that special. So I didn’t say anything.”

The pale boy’s lip curled in disgust. “Act as innocent as you want, you fucking slimy bitch. Pretending like you did it on purpose to _teach me a lesson_ , even though you never told Hiro either, did you?”

“I did,” said Iota.

Her partner blinked.

“Well,” amended Iota, “sort of. I warned him before the _second_ flight, not the first one. So you are right about me. I’m a slimy bitch. But he told me it didn’t matter either way, that he’d rather die flying with me than live on alone.”

326 shook his head slowly, and his pale eyes seemed to grow in intensity as he stared at her.

“Jesus,” he said. “I thought even _Hiro_ had more dignity than that. What a waste.”

“Want to hear something funny?” said Iota.

“What does that mean?” said 326 coldly.

“It’s _funny_ ,” she emphasized. “I promise.”

“What is it?”

“016 can actually tolerate connecting with me because of a genetic mutation he has. The mutagen won’t kill him.”

The eyes directed upon her face were glassy.

“You’re lying.”

“I’ll show you in the cockpit,” said Iota. “The doctor explained it to me. I remember all of it. In fact, I have a _lot_ of memories of 016, so I’ll show you whatever you want. Consider it my apology for what happened. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be close to him.”

He wanted to hit her. She could see him fighting back the urge as plainly as if his sweaty forehead was transparent and his thoughts were visible. Humans were all weak, and they all had breaking points, and the cooler they acted, the closer they were to it. _Come on._ The pain would be a welcome sensation. Distract her from the grainy sandy feeling of the inside of her own skin, from the stifling constricting fit of the pistil suit. _Do it. Klaxosaurs want to kill me. By rights, the humans should too._

syncing is like that time in plantation 13 you got a burr stuck in your boot in the forest and it rubbed your skin raw. had to dig it out. it smells like blood. all the stamens are the same. all the humans are the same. they age and die and crumble into dust, and not-darling will too. being a beast isn’t so bad, is it?

it’s starting soon. you can feel it already. 326 is going to crumple up like a dried leaf tossed into the bonfire. humans are too fragile to survive in here.

there was a little flare-up like a match striking when you saw the expression on 326’s face. hold it close to yourself, so the wind doesn’t blow it out. do you love being a beast again? are you happy here? good. this is where you belong.

“ _Nine Iota, status._ ”

“I’m here.”

“ _Is the sync stable? We’re not seeing any noise on this end._ ”

“Good for now. If he can make it out of the hangar. I feel like he’s gonna flatline any second.”

“ _Shouldn’t be a problem for now, Iota. Medical gave him an Elixir booster a couple hours ago. He should be able to last at least until your mission is complete._ ”

“Really?” she said. “I don’t like the sound of that. Are we not fighting anything really big, then?”

“ _Afraid not._ ”

“Oh. I want to go back to my room, then.”

“ _No go, Iota. You’re going to pick up the wreckage of one of the reserve squad’s FRANXX. It’s still in the middle of klaxosaur territory, so we can’t send the reserve squad, and the rest of the Nines are on patrol._ ”

Iota shifted her shoulders and flexed her fingers and knee joints experimentally. Smooth and automatic, as it had always been. The humming of the servos vibrated through her limbs. Thank God Strelizia had stayed the same. Thank God she was allowed one remaining constant in her life, even if it was a cage the adults had built for her.

 _Wake up,_ she said. 326 acknowledged the prod.

“Wreckage, huh?” she said into the mic. The word had only just now penetrated her fugue. “Hey, Command, why do you guys keep trying to make humans do this job?”

“ _That isn’t relevant to your mission._ ”

She waited for a few seconds in silence, watching the opposite wall of the hangar, where light strips marked the edge of the enormous closed door. Strelizia’s engines rumbled softly.

A resounding _thunk_ as the door unlatched, and a metallic grinding sound as it began to slide open. Pitch black outside, or nearly, with the light from the hangar bleeding out into the snow. Once they got outside the stars would be visible again.

She was anxious to move.

* * *

Garden was somewhere in this massive ant’s nest, no doubt separated from them by a mile or more of twisting blue-lit corridors and sealed doors they were not permitted to open—but Hiro had given up any hope of visiting the place of his childhood a month ago. For now, other than the dorm and the hangar, Medical was the only place in Plantation One that tangibly existed.

He and Ikuno skidded to a halt beneath the archway that read _MEDICAL WING C_. She doubled over and rested her hands on her knees, and for a moment he thought she actually was going to vomit, but she was only taking gulps of air to catch her breath.

“You need help?” said Hiro numbly.

Ikuno shook her head. A strand of hair had escaped from the butterfly-shaped clip at the back of her head, and it was falling over her face at an awkward angle. She straightened up. Apparently she hadn’t noticed it.

“What are we going to do?” she said.

“Find them,” said Hiro stubbornly.

“And then what?” Ikuno was struggling to keep her voice even. “We aren’t doctors or anything. We’re just going to get in the way. Shouldn’t we just let them—”

“Yes,” he said. “Probably.”

Her already chalk-white face was growing paler.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “Ichigo isn’t going to die, is she?”

“No, she isn’t. And neither is Goro. And they’re not getting carted off to cryo, either.”

“Promise me,” said Ikuno.

Parasites were bred to die. Perhaps it was coming for Ichigo and Goro sooner than any of the others. Or maybe they would pull through together, this time, and delay the swinging of the axe for another month, or year, or God knew how long. It was going to happen, regardless, and he did not have the power to prevent it. It was not wrong to lie to Ikuno—neither of them would live long enough for her to hate him for it. It wouldn’t be the first promise he had broken.

“I promise.”

There was a nurse—masked, just like the rest of them—waiting next to the entrance to the only occupied room in the entire Medical wing.

“Hey,” he said sharply, stepping forward out into the hallway, blocking their path as they approached. “Who let you kids in? You can’t be here.”

Medical was all but deserted. Why had the adults assigned someone to guard the door?

“Those are our squadmates in there,” Hiro said, looking past the nurse at the doorway. “Can we—”

“You can’t be here,” repeated the nurse, cutting Hiro off, and he took another step forward. “Go out and wait in the lobby.”

“We want to see them first.”

“That’s out of the question.” The nurse took a third step forward, until he was almost within arm’s reach of Hiro. His mouth was set in a thin line. “You shouldn’t be in here without proper authorization. Please leave.”

“After we see 015 and 056.” It was easier to stare down a mask than it was a human face. He could pretend there was nothing behind it. “You’re treating them, right?”

The man touched an indent in the wall under the little metal placard that displayed the room number, and it lit up and began to gently pulse orange.

“Hiro,” mumbled Ikuno, her eyes fixed on the orange light. “I think we…we should come back later.”

Hiro glanced at his interim partner. She was actually shivering—despite the heat of the run from the briefing room to here—and hugging herself for warmth. She looked unnaturally thin and fragile. The remains of a half-forgotten memory were resurfacing in his mind.

_“What about Ikuno?”_

_“Yes, I expect her case to be fatal.”_

“Go,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The nurse was still staring at the two of them—or at least Hiro assumed he was, behind the mask—clearly unwilling to move, but uncertain of what to do next.

“No,” said Ikuno numbly. “Let’s both go.”

“I…I’m going to…”

_To do what?_

What had he planned to do? Fight the doctors? Take his squadmates’ gurneys and wheel them out of Plantation One? He could no more help Ichigo and Goro right now than he could fight a klaxosaur with his bare fists. Trying to interfere at all would only lessen their chances of survival.

“…yeah,” he said blankly. “Okay. Let’s go wait outside, Ikuno.”

She nodded. Her lip trembled and she began to cry.

“Geez,” said Zorome. “Watch where you’re going.”

He extended his hand to help Hiro to his feet. Miku was standing at her partner’s shoulder, looking both angry and uncharacteristically anxious.

“Sorry,” said Hiro.

“Are they here, or what?” said Miku.

“Yeah. But we don’t know anything. The nurse didn’t let us inside, and he didn’t say how they’re doing.”

Zorome bit his lip impatiently. He made to shove past Hiro and enter the hallway; Miku reached out halfheartedly to stop him, but Hiro caught him by the shoulder and stayed his movement.

“Let go,” said Zorome angrily.

“Don’t bother.” Hiro shook his head. “We can’t do any good by going in there.”

“I’m not going in their _room_.” Zorome grabbed Hiro’s wrist and tried to prize his hand off. “I’m not stupid. I’m just gonna ask.”

Ikuno let out a shuddering moan. Miku moved forward and wrapped her tightly in a hug.

Hiro released his grip. “Whatever.”

Zorome snorted with exasperation and departed down the hallway, and they heard the sound of his hurried footsteps clattering against the walls for several seconds afterward. After it was gone, the only sound audible in the lobby was of Ikuno’s shaky breathing.

“C’mon,” muttered Hiro. “You guys should sit down.”

“Ikuno,” said Miku gently.

“Okay.”

The girls took adjacent seats, and Hiro sat opposite them. Ikuno leaned over and rested her head on Miku’s shoulder, her glasses slightly askew. Miku started stroking her hair gently with one hand.

Zorome emerged from the hallway barely two minutes later, his hair unkempt and his face burning with anger. One mask-clad guard flanked him on either side; the one on the right was fingering the butt of the baton in his belt impatiently. Neither were carrying firearms.

“You three,” barked the guard on the right, stopping along with his comrade and Zorome a few paces away from the lobby seats. “You’re in Squad 13 too?”

Hiro nodded. The guard shoved Zorome forward and pointed at the girls. “Collect them and come with us, please.”

“Oh,” said Hiro. “No, our squad leader and her partner are being treated right now. We’re waiting for them.”

“You don’t have authorization to be in here,” said the guard, taking a step forward, still tensely fingering his baton. “Your squad manager told us that you’re neglecting patrol duty. This is not negotiable, Code 016. Please come with us.”

“She did? Let me talk to her, then.”

The guard glanced at his partner, who shrugged.

Hiro pulled his communicator out of his pocket, intending to call Nana, but it beeped loudly the instantly he opened it. Nana was already a step ahead of him.

“Hiro.”

“Nana?”

“Are you still at Medical? Are the other three with you?”

“Yeah. Is something wrong?”

“Hiro. All four of you are supposed to be on patrol duty right now.”

“Ikuno and I can’t pilot.”

“Well, Zorome and Miku are, at least. Look, I don’t want them to drag you back here, but this situation isn’t going to be under my jurisdiction for much longer.” Nana caught her breath, sounding harried and anxious. “I’ll keep you updated regarding Delphinium’s team as soon as I get information. Just get back to briefing ASAP, please.”

“Sorry, Nana.” Hiro spoke clearly enough for the two guards to hear him easily—they should have no reason to be able to pin this on her. “None of us are going to pilot until we know Ichigo and Goro are okay.”

“ _Hiro_ —”

He terminated the call and dropped his communicator back into his pocket.

The two guards looked at each other again.

“These kids are from that special squad, aren’t they?” muttered one.

The other grunted an assent. “Wonder what the hell the doctor is up to now.” He grabbed Zorome by the upper arm again, the same place where he had released his hold a few seconds ago. “Move it.”

The first guard moved forward, indicating he intended to reach down and grab Ikuno. Hiro stood up so quickly that he sent his chair clattering across the paneled floor. Miku was looking up at the two guards fearfully; Zorome looked aghast. The guard paused.

“Don’t touch them,” said Hiro.

The heartbeat in his ears sounded distant. His palms were tingling, though his body was as cold and numb as it had been for a month.

_Stop it. You’re just getting everyone into more trouble._

_It doesn’t matter. Ichigo and Goro are dying right now because of them._

“Go ahead,” said Guard B, nodding at his partner. “Let’s get it over with.”

Guard A shrugged. The tips of his gloved fingers touched Ikuno’s shoulder. The dull gray shapes within the lobby all blurred together. A mask shattered into three pieces. Thin plastic, more fragile than it looked. The face beneath it was human, after all. Hiro had never really been sure what he had expected to see there. The guard’s cheekbone collapsed beneath his knuckles with the sound of a branch being broken in half. The head snapped back. The man crumpled.

Miku had reacted to his movement, somehow. She cradled Ikuno’s head against her chest protectively. The second guard seemed not to know what to do; he had released his grip on Zorome for the second time, and was now reaching toward the baton with both hands. It was all moving with excruciating slowness.

He placed his palm on the guard’s sternum and shoved. The man’s feet left the floor. Hiro continued the motion, driving the guard’s chest to the ground; there was a crunching thud as his back contacted the panels, and a loud crisp _thwack_ as his head struck them a second later. He went limp immediately.

The tingling sensation in Hiro’s palms was gone as quickly as it had come. A wave of numbness washed over him. The air inside the lobby felt icy cold.

Zorome took a step backward. He was staring at Hiro, horrified.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Hiro met his gaze for a second, saying nothing, then turned to look at Miku, who flinched and pulled Ikuno closer to her. There was a ringing sound in his ears. The first guard he had hit was stirring, moaning indistinctly with pain.

They were afraid of him. As they had every right to be. Violence against fellow humans was a tool of the adults, one they could wield with considerably more power than him. All he’d done was buy his squadmates time, time until backup showed up, time that they would have only spent sitting here, time that they could not make any use of. Traded their trust and the last of Nana’s goodwill for that.

 _What did you think was going to happen?_ he asked himself.

_I didn’t think._

“I thought they were going to hurt you,” he said numbly.

“Hiro…” Zorome’s voice was strained. “We’re the plantation’s defense squad. They can’t do that. They were just going to…”

“I know.”

The icy void was growing ever deeper. The room was tilting, and his head was starting to spin—not the pleasant giddy sensation that Zero Two used to give him. A horrible sickening spiral. Zorome swallowed. Hiro watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“I’m sorry for scaring you guys,” said Hiro blankly. “You should go. So they don’t think you had anything to do with this.”

“Y-yeah.”

_If you had to do something stupid, why did it need to be such a waste? What happened to saving Naomi?_

He counted the seconds between Zorome and the girls leaving, and the second set of guards bursting into the lobby. Seventy-two seconds—hopefully that would be long enough.

They were barking orders at him, probably. Hiro could hear nothing. The barrels of their weapons were all trained on him. Perhaps they were using live rounds—no doubt they’d been informed that he was dangerous. He assumed his development of unnatural strength was linked to piloting with Zero Two, but he was sure that even she would not be able to withstand lead bullets. He half hoped they’d open fire.

* * *

How glorious it was to cruise above the snow beneath a carpet of stars, with her toes barely grazing the drifts. There was a scent of klaxosaurs, too, not close enough to be threatening, but not faint enough to be ignored; just a little bite at the back of her throat, a reminder of their presence, of the fact that there was food enough below the snow to gorge herself for days on end if she wished to—at least until the body in the cockpit succumbed.

“ _Nine Iota, course correct._ ”

“Taking the scenic route.” Less words spoken meant less time she needed to spend with her own senses separated from those of Strelizia’s. If she concentrated, she could almost feel the cold. “Stop whining.”

“Iota!” Beta’s tone was as unnaturally positive as always. His voice grated on her ears. At least it wasn’t Alpha. “Almost didn’t believe it was you. Welcome back! Done with your tantrum?”

“Don’t know yet. How’s hunting?”

“Good. For _them_ , anyway. Hermanns got a couple of the reserve squad—the leader and her partner. They didn’t even last a day.” Beta laughed loudly. “The girl was cute, so I’m a little disappointed. Papa’s got to be out of his mind if he’s bringing humans in for this.”

Iota agreed fully with the sentiment, but didn’t feel like saying it aloud. Not to Beta. She wouldn’t need to talk, anyway. It would just cut into the time Beta could spend hearing his own voice.

“Anyway, nobody told me you were joining patrol tonight, so what are you doing?” There he went again. “Oh yeah, speaking of, how’d you get ahold of another backpack? I thought the replacement was getting here tomorrow morning. Did they drag some poor stamen out of medical or something?”

“More or less.”

“Lucky,” said Beta. “Oh, they probably put you on retrieval, huh? Since there are still Hermanns everywhere. I hope you—”

His voice abruptly cut off as she switched the comms mode to _do not disturb_.

326 was starting to crumble. The edges of the sync were turning jagged. Heat was coming off of him, as if he was burning up from the inside out. His arms and fingers were limp on the controls. No doubt they’d given him too strong of a dosage.

Sometimes she wondered if any of the doctors knew what the hell they were doing. Not that Iota was a medical expert. It was more likely that flying with a hundred and fifty or more dying stamens had just given her good intuition about this kind of thing. You couldn’t just pump 150cc of Elixir into a kid and expect him to become a miracle pilot, especially at this age. It was why APE almost always did the Elixir trials with younger children. 326 never would have survived them.

 _I did, though,_ he said.

Iota was so preoccupied that she had momentarily forgotten the presence of another person in the cockpit.

 _Did what?_ she said.

_The treatment. When I was a kid._

_What, really?_

_My numbers were terrible in Garden, so the adults gave me the option. I was nine years old. They told us it had a fifteen percent success rate._

_I think it’s lower than that._

He ignored her comment. _I asked Hiro to promise me that we could fly together if I came back alive. He said yes._

Iota was curious, in spite of herself. 326 would’ve known at that age—as every parasite did, 016 included—about the rule of male/female pairs. 016 probably would have genuinely tried it, too.

_Then what?_

_They discharged me a week later. I went up to Hiro and told him I kept my half of the promise._

_And?_

_He asked me what promise I was talking about._

That sentence had caused 326 immense pain. For a split second, his senses had begun to bleed into hers. The sync wavered; 326 composed himself, and it normalized.

 _Is that it?_ she said.

In the excitement of flying again, and of having Strelizia’s strength replace her own, she had forgotten how much she hated being trapped in this little room with him. Her curiosity was gone as quickly as it had come. She felt sick and angry.

The thing he’d been clutching to his chest for eleven years was a grudge over a forgotten promise?

 _There was something wrong about him when I came back,_ 326 continued. _Ichigo and Goro thought so too. They remembered what he said, too. Ichigo said she thought the adults might’ve done something to make him forget. But you know Ichigo. She thinks Hiro’s perfect. She needed it to not be his fault._

 _Stop talking._ She wanted to block out his voice, but doing that would break the sync if she wasn’t careful. It had been a long time since she’d last needed to block anyone out. Years upon years of flying with vat-grown dead-faced stamens whose minds were as empty and silent as their expressions.

 _Nobody cares,_ said 326, ignoring her again. _Everyone else forgot it ever happened. I’m the only one who still remembers. None of them ever gave a shit about me._

The sound of his thoughts was beginning to hurt her head.

“ _Nine Iota, you’re moving out of range. Course correct._ ”

“Yeah, I know.”

Iota sighed. Strelizia banked sharply to the right, diverting her course back toward Plantation One, where the klaxosaur tracks were starting to grow denser. Looked like Command wasn’t going to let her just fly away. Maybe sating her appetite would help her feel better. The presence of 326 in her mind was worsening her headache, even if he wasn’t speaking. She felt an urge to get out and lie down in the snow.

There was a pulsing orange triangle on the HUD and a dotted line surrounding it, indicating the area the wreckage would be found. It struck Iota as odd, suddenly, that Command hadn’t given her an exact location, given that all FRANXX had tracking devices built into the cockpits. Maybe the klaxosaurs had really torn it up. Out here in the freezing cold, thermal probably wouldn’t do any good if the residual heat from her boosters had died out. Annoying. But it meant more time she could be outside, so maybe it wasn’t so bad.

She found the corpse quickly, using Strelizia’s spotlights to sweep. It was curled up in the emergency safety position, head and shoulders facing downward buried in the snow, and the wind had blown drifts over it, partially concealing its limbs. It looked like a cozy place to die.

Her foot knocked against something as she approached the immobile FRANXX. The carcass of a Hermann, crusted with snow and dried blue blood; it was sliced in half lengthwise along its entire body. There was a matching corpse on the other side of the FRANXX’s body, too, cut down the center so that the halves had been neatly separated. It was decent handiwork—good, actually, considering how poorly suited the standard issue FRANXX’ spears were for long cuts like that.

“Beta, come in.”

“Hi,” said Beta in her earpiece almost immediately. “Haven’t heard from you in awhile, Iota. What’s up?”

“Did you tell the new squad how the Hermanns hunt?”

The audio peaked as the other Nine laughed. She winced.

“Do you think we should have?” he said. “Yeah, I feel kinda bad about it, actually. The girl _was_ cute.”

“Just asking.”

Beta did have a point, and it made no difference to Iota—as long as she wasn’t the one to get yelled at by the doctor for wasting another batch of his test subjects. The battlefield was no place for weaklings. Pilots who could not react or adapt in time were a burden, on each other and on the rest of their squad.

“It’s not like you to ask,” said Beta. “Do you get sentimental about humans now, Iota? Since you lived with them and stuff? I’d love to hear—”

The sound of his voice reminded her to toggle the mute function again. Silence washed over her. It was blissful. Too bad it didn’t work on the other occupant of the cockpit.

Iota reached down and gripped the FRANXX’s body by its shoulder to pull its head out of the ground, and braced herself. Klaxosaur blood had a pleasant scent, because it meant that she had won. Conversely, human blood smelled foul. She had spent too many hours in the cockpit of a FRANXX accompanied by that odor. She pulled.

The corpse yielded too easily—almost weightless when it should have been heavy. It took Iota a moment to register why. The neck had been severed; not as cleanly as the two Hermann corpses that lay at her feet, but much more so than a blind klaxosaur would be able to manage. And her head—in which the pilots’ bodies would be sealed—was nowhere to be found.

Iota had seen her share of dead humans, but this was so bizarre that it was a little unnerving. She activated the comms link, still holding the limp chassis in one hand.

“Command.”

“ _We read you, Iota._ ”

“I found the FRANXX, but its head is missing. It doesn’t look like a klaxosaur’s work. Should I look for it?”

“ _No need. Another team recovered it._ ”

“Oh,” she said. “Okay. You should’ve told me that beforehand.”

“ _Please proceed with the assignment, Iota. I assume you’re able to recover the chassis._ ”

“Fine, whatever.”

_Who is that?_

326 had spoken again, though his presence was hazy. His focus was on the chassis in Strelizia’s hand.

 _Doesn’t matter,_ she said.

_I recognize it._

Iota took another look at it. The sight of a headless FRANXX had been so strange that she’d unconsciously been avoiding it, but now she shared 326’s confusion. The sheath on its back wouldn’t have fit a spear, and now she was realizing that it wasn’t even the same color of gray as the standard-issue FRANXX were—it was the color of ivory, though it was hard to tell in the darkness and against a backdrop of white snow. Iota flicked on the spotlight. There were light blue and coral accents along the FRANXX’s chassis, at its shoulders and waist and leg joints.

For some reason, she couldn’t breathe.

 _Hey,_ said 326 feebly. _Is that Delphinium?_

The doctor had promised her that she would never have to see Squad 13 again. How many times would she be lied to? How many times would they use her? How many times would the old man make promises that were not worth the oxygen he wasted to speak them?

The stars above her head and the carpet of snow below her feet had turned the color of blood.

* * *

“Nine Alpha.”

“Hi, Doctor. Is work going well?”

“Well enough. Were you able to deliver the replacement to Iota? I tried to contact her earlier but didn’t get a response. I need her for something.”

“Sir. She destroyed the spare communicator when I gave it to her. I got the feeling she’d react poorly if I pressed the issue, so I left her alone. Apologies.”

Frank sighed. “Why did I bother, Alpha?”

“Couldn’t tell you, sir.”

“Anyway, when you have a minute, tell Iota I’d like to see her in my office. And hopefully this will be the last time you have to play errand boy.”

“Can do.” Alpha sounded slightly confused. “Should I tell her as soon as she gets back?”

Frank squinted down at a line of his notes that was too messy to be legible, trying to decipher what he’d written an hour ago. One of the drawbacks of using an analog method. “Gets back? Where is she?”

“Sir, Iota is out on a retrieval job at the moment, flying with Code 326. I thought you were the one who authorized it.”

The clatter of the pen dropping onto his desk was probably loud enough for the stamen on the other end of the line to hear it.

“Doctor?”

“Alpha. Repeat that for me, please.”

“Sir. Iota and Code 326 are currently recovering the remains of F-Mk1 Unit 1.”

“Code 015 and 056’s FRANXX.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And since you thought I authorized it, I assume that you are unaware who _did_.”

“Correct.”

One hundred and fifteen years ago, the man now inhabiting this ancient half-metal body would have stood up and overturned his desk in rage.

It was certain that either himself or Nine Iota would not make it out of this alive. Possibly both of them. It was the perfect storm of disasters. Fifty years or more of careful planning, of exploring contingencies, all going up in a puff of smoke—because the girl was too impulsive and he had underestimated it, and because someone along the chain of command had chosen to ignore a set of instructions that were as simple as they were vital to the survival of the entire human species.

_Do not allow Iota any contact with any person that is not authorized flight personnel, myself, or a member of the Nines squad. Do not allow Iota to learn of the presence of any other squad within Plantation One besides the Nines. Do not allow Strelizia to use the general-purpose comms channel under any circumstances._

“Alpha, listen carefully, please.”

“Sir.”

“Order all the active patrols to return to base. Give them ten minutes. After that, whether they’ve returned or not, have the Flight Commander activate Defcon Two.”

“Sir? A full lockdown?”

“Correct.”

“Even for Iota, I’m not sure that’s necessary,” said Alpha pleasantly. “If you want, I can ask Beta and Gamma to restrain her and bring her in. It won’t be difficult for them, especially considering the state of her partner. What happened? Are you concerned she’s going to become unstable?”

“ _Become_ unstable.” Frank massaged his temples with the fingers of his intact hand. God help them all. “Nine Alpha, have you ever heard the parable about the elephant and the trainer?”

“I’m not sure what an elephant is, sir.”

“An extinct animal twice the height of a human and two hundred times the weight. An angry male could kill one of the Nines without difficulty.”

“Like a klaxosaur, then.”

“Close enough. As the story goes, a man is walking through an elephant camp and sees that each elephant is tied to a post, using a thin rope around one leg. He sees a trainer nearby and asks him, what’s going on? Why don’t any of the elephants break the rope and run away? And the trainer tells him: the elephants are captured when they’re very young, and at that age they aren’t strong enough to break the rope. By the time they’re fully grown, they’re conditioned to believe that they can’t.”

“I see,” said Alpha. “Efficient.”

“Quite.”

“So…how does the elephant trainer relate to this, sir?”

“Well,” said Frank, “once Iota recognizes Delphinium, she’s going to realize that I lied to her. And she’s going to break the rope.”

* * *

“I dunno,” muttered Zorome. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I guess he…he cracked. The stress must be getting to him.”

“Yeah,” said Miku in a hushed voice. “Maybe. I just never thought Hiro would lose it like that. It was scary.”

Ikuno said nothing. The sound of fist striking bone had replayed again in her head. A dull thud, like a rock striking wood. She had never thought about how fragile human bodies could be.

Nana emerged from the briefing room ahead of them, looking unusually distressed. Her hair was slightly untidy, as though she’d run her hand through it. Ikuno couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen Nana do that.

“You three,” she said breathlessly, and she let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall of the hallway. “What a relief. Don’t scare me like that again, please.”

“Nana,” said Zorome hesitantly.

“Things are a little different here than they were in Plantation 13, do you understand? I cannot stress enough how important it is that you follow orders. I’m only here as your aide, and on top of that you guys are part of a reserve squad, which means that it’s a priority—”

“Nana,” said Zorome again.

“—where’s Hiro?” Nana interrupted herself, looking over the three of them again. “Isn’t he with you?”

“He attacked the guards,” said Ikuno. “In Medical. They took him away. We don’t know where he is now.”

“You’re kidding me,” said Nana automatically.

Zorome laughed bitterly. “I wish.”

“It was scary,” said Miku. “They said we weren’t supposed to be there, and they came over to escort us out. And he just…blew up. He punched them both.”

Nana sighed deeply and covered her face with both palms.

“Did they hurt him?” she asked.

“Well…no,” said Zorome hesitantly. “He knocked them out. At least I think so. Could’ve killed them for all I know. He told us to leave before the reinforcements showed up.”

Nana lowered her hands and Ikuno saw that her eyes looked bloodshot.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll…I’ll try to go and see what’s going on. You three can go back to your rooms for now.”

“You told us we were supposed to be on a patrol rotation,” objected Miku.

“Forget that.” Nana waved Miku away impatiently. “Just sit tight until I get everything straightened out. You guys shouldn’t be outside right now anyway. I’ll be back.”

She brushed past them and disappeared down the hallway.

Zorome ran his fingers through his hair, opened his mouth, and closed it without speaking. Ikuno made to leave, but Miku stayed her with a hand on her shoulder.

“What?” she said.

“Don’t run off on your own,” said Miku sternly. “Come with us. You’re gonna share my bed.”

“I’m fine,” mumbled Ikuno.

Miku shook her head. “Don’t be dumb.”

* * *

Hiro sat and waited as the world around him slid in and out of focus.

Bruises were forming on his arms and shoulders where the APE guards had grabbed him. There was no pain; he only knew they were there by looking. The sense of touch was slipping away from him. The blackness that threatened to engulf him the moment Zero Two vanished was lapping at his ankles. There was no strength left for him to hold it off.

The cell was a concrete block, featureless, sealed shut with a heavy door made of thick iron bars. The image of Miku’s and Zorome’s shocked faces prickled his throat painfully. He clung to the sensation. For now, he still existed. He wished he could have given a better apology. The metal edges of the cuffs had rubbed his wrists raw.

A distant clattering noise, like metal striking metal at the other end of a very long hallway. A pistol’s barrel was trained on his forehead from the other side of the metal bars. Someone had unlatched them and was pulling the cell door open. Gloved hands reached in and gripped his arms and shoulders where the bruises had already begun to blossom, forcing him clumsily to his feet.

“Sir. We brought him here. He’s waiting outside. He seems to be conscious, but unresponsive.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take over from here. Bring him in, please.”

The pressure at his arms and shoulders pulled him forward.

“Well, Code 016, I haven’t been completely truthful with you.”

This voice he recognized, and along with it, the bottom-heavy silhouette that did not exactly match a human face. Everything was blurred. Hiro sat and waited. He had little interest in anything Doctor Frank could say to him. It was too late to make a difference.

The voice, which apparently had waited for him to respond, cleared its throat after a moment of silence and continued. “I told you that I wouldn’t be able to get you out of trouble again, although—to be fair to myself—I meant it at the time. Fortunately, we have some extenuating circumstances.”

The old man was stalling, talking more than he needed to. It was strangely out of place for him; Doctor Frank normally treated conversation as a nuisance that he’d like to avoid. Perhaps it was his way of expressing nerves.

“Code 016.”

“I want to leave.” His lips felt cold and numb.

“And go where, exactly?” said Frank coldly.

“Somewhere that I can’t hear you talking,” said Hiro.

“I’m afraid that’s not one of your options right now.”

“Oh.”

“I need your help in order to contact Code 002.”

Something like a briefly lighted candle had flickered in his chest, and then it was gone. He wanted to be alone. He was so sick of being trapped in this body and mind that remembered Zero Two.

“No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not going to help you.”

Frank sighed impatiently. “This isn’t about helping me, Code 016, nor is it about helping the Council. This is about the fate of humanity as a whole.”

“I don’t care.”

“That includes the lives of your squadmates, who are in more danger right now than anyone else.”

“They already were,” said Hiro. “Two of them are dead. Protecting you.”

“Are you referring to 015 and 056? The overseeing surgeon informed me that both of them are stable, as of eighteen minutes ago.”

“Whatever,” said Hiro dully. He knew Frank was lying to him, trying to buy his cooperation. The energy he would have used to argue was long gone. “Why are you asking for my help? You know I’m not going to help you.”

“I have no other options,” said Frank shortly. “About twenty minutes ago, Code 002 discovered the presence of Squad 13 in this plantation, after having been told that she wouldn’t be required to work with any of you again. Neither she nor her stamen is responding.”

Hiro sat in silence for several long seconds.

“Zero Two is…here?”

“She’s part of the Nines squad, yes.”

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly. “Why did you tell her that and then move us to Plantation One?”

“It wasn’t an ideal set of circumstances,” said Frank coldly. His biological eye glinted. “And it’s no longer relevant at this point. Strelizia is approaching Plantation One, and her pilot is not responding. She is most likely going to attempt to breach the hangar and search for me. She will kill anyone that she sees.”

_Zero Two wouldn’t do that._

“So…you want me to talk her down.”

“Correct.”

“What if I can’t?”

“I think you know exactly what will happen in that case, Code 016.”

Frank was correct.

_Zero Two must have had a reason to leave without even saying goodbye._

He had sworn to himself to respect that reason, even if letting her go meant sacrificing everything in the world that was important to him. If something had forced her to leave Squad 13 and go back to her own squad—if she had made the doctor promise that she would never have to see him again—the parting must have been as painful for her as it was for him.

And now, if through the old man’s mistake—or his arrogance—that promise had been shattered, and the last thread holding her together had snapped…even if he didn’t talk to her one last time, both of them would lose everything either way.

There had never really been a doubt which option he would choose. His cowardice would not have permitted any other outcome. He looked up into the doctor’s face, at the mismatched eyes and the blocky metal jaw, and nodded.

“ _Strelizia, you’re coming in too hot._ ”

It was like the buzzing of a fly in her ear. She flicked it away irritably.

“ _Strelizia, you’re on course for collision with the plantation. Change your approach vector._ ”

Strelizia could see, three kilometers distant, that the hangar’s blast doors were lowered. No sign of a klaxosaur attack anywhere on comms, which meant that _she_ was what they were preparing for. How had they known? Had someone sent her out on this errand with full knowledge of what she was going to find out there in the snow?

She was still holding onto Delphinium’s body. Her hand was gripping it too tightly to move. The defense cannons arrayed on either side of the hangar bay entrance hung limp and inoperative in their cradles. Those had to warm up, and the adults had not had time to activate them. Lucky.

“ _Strelizia, acknowledge._ ”

_Boom._

It was a hideous sound, like a clap of thunder. Hiro watched the assorted note-taking paraphernalia on the doctor’s desk rattle. A little cup full of pens tipped over and dispersed its contents onto the floor.

“Fucking hell,” muttered the doctor.

The office door burst open and admitted a cluster of APE guards, each of which was holding his weapon at the ready.

“Ah,” said Frank. “Good timing.” He gestured to Hiro with his cybernetic hand. “Take Code 016 to the hangar, please.”

“The hangar, sir?” said the guard uneasily, glancing at Hiro. “But it’s being evacuated.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” The doctor tapped his fingers on his desk. “Please don’t make me ask you again.”

“Understood.”

Pincer-like gloved hands grabbed his arms and shoulders for the third time. He winced.

A wall of steel, four feet thick, separated her from the humans cowering in their metal box.

The heavy blast doors were designed to keep out beasts that were strong enough to tear open a FRANXX’s hide like a milk carton. She’d seen them trying to force their way inside once, three or more years ago in a plantation whose name she’d long forgotten, with their great ugly bluish jaws snapping hopelessly at the steel. Doctor Frank had no doubt had some part in the design of the defense system—the council had been paying him for nearly one hundred years to keep the humans in their plantations safe from klaxosaurs. Unfortunately for him, she was not _quite_ a klaxosaur.

Strelizia did not bother decelerating. She slammed into the sheer wall only slightly slower than cruising speed, cushioning her impact with her knees and elbows; they deformed the metal where they struck, leaving deep dents. The dull resonance of the collision vibrated up her spine. It was pretty, like the sound of a bell ringing. Everyone in the plantation must have heard it.

326 was still alive, even if his senses were no longer functioning. He had twitched in reaction to the noise.

_Calm down and go to sleep._

She sliced open a gash in the metal using the tip of her weapon—it glowed red—and gripped both sides of the cut and pulled it open, as easy as peeling those circular orange-colored fruits she had once eaten in Plantation 13. They had been a little sour and very sweet. Once her task here was done she might go looking for another. There was blue light shining out from between her fingers.

Squad 13’s FRANXX hung immobile at the far end of the hangar, all mismatched and misshapen and differently colored. Strelizia was surprised to see that Delphinium’s space was empty, before she remembered that she had left the body outside. Nearer to her was the row of gray and white Nines-issue FRANXX, all unoccupied except one. Beta’s unit was standing facing her.

The little speaker in the ear of the girl inside her head crackled. She had forgotten to disconnect from comms.

“Hey, Iota. Get ahold of yourself.”

 _Iota._ There was no person called Iota. She took a step forward, and Beta moved to block her path.

“C’mon. Don’t make me hurt you.” As though he wasn’t looking for an excuse to. Beta’s voice was as jovial as ever.

“Move.”

“Really?” said Beta. His grin was audible. “Okay. Make me.”

He moved like a cat pouncing, the hands of the FRANXX outstretched to grab her arms and immobilize her—three times the speed of a klaxosaur, and with enough grip strength to pull them apart as though they were made of tissue paper. She had grappled with the Nines before. Not as part of combat training—the adults had no reason to prepare a FRANXX to fight another. Just for fun.

Before there was time to complete the motion, she struck him in the chest with the heel of her hand; the noise was nearly as loud as her collision with the plantation, and equally satisfying. He smashed through the enormous rack that held the unoccupied FRANXX and into the concrete wall behind it. She heard Beta cough with surprise.

He was back on his feet again before the debris hit the floor. “Freak,” he said. Strelizia could not see his face, but knew he was no longer smiling.

Beta darted forward again, aiming for the same grapple, the one that had worked on a girl called Iota a dozen times. This time she stepped forward into his range, and as one of his hands fastened on her shoulder, she struck him under his jaw with an upward blow. He might have been able to react to Iota trying this, but Iota was weak.

You could not normally harm a FRANXX’s pilots by damaging it. Or rather, klaxosaurs couldn’t.

The head of the FRANXX snapped back and its feet left the floor. It was no longer “he”; Beta had disconnected, forcefully, both he and his partner knocked unconscious by the blow. It was a bundle of metal parts now, and the sound it made clattering to the floor was pathetic.

Strelizia moved past it, toward where the catwalks that ran along the length of the hangar converged into the hallway at its end. The hangar was wide and open, designed to hold FRANXX, but the rest of this plantation was dense and crisscrossed with tunnels like a huge anthill. She would have to tear her way through all of it. Tiresome, especially while piloting a FRANXX alone. Then again, the mechanical smell of the old doctor was growing stronger every second, and the annoyance was nothing compared to the satisfaction she would feel once she had the opportunity to crush his body into scrap metal.

There was another smaller set of blast doors separating the hangar and the hallway, designed for humans and several magnitudes too small for her to fit through. She tore them from their hinges with the tip of her spear. Ah! Here came the odor now, three times stronger than it had been. Her prey was somewhere at the other end of this long hallway. Scents of other humans too, with varying levels of familiarity. No point in hurting them either, unless they tried to stop her—the smell of dead humans was abhorrent.

And speaking of humans…there was a little cluster of them collected at the end of this hallway, only a dozen yards from the doors she’d destroyed, their faces all upturned at Strelizia, but expressions unreadable thanks to the APE masks. She could smell their terror, though, and there was no chance that they had not heard about an evacuation. What on earth were they doing here?

There was one figure amongst them that didn’t match the gray of the guards’ uniforms. A dark-haired kid with sunken eyes like 326’s.

Her mind was empty. The part of her that was still Iota had recognized him instantly—she had smelled him, actually, the moment Strelizia forced her way into the hangar.

Strelizia had been able to ignore it entirely and then her concentration had faltered for a split second upon recognizing the blue in his eyes and now she was a frightened little girl trapped in a mech and crying to be left alone.

There was a glowing orange spear tip a meter from his face. The heat and light were suffocating. His senses were all flooding back into him at once and it was hard to make sense of what he was looking at. Strelizia had stopped moving, and her spear, too, had stopped before it would pass through him and neatly bisect his entire body.

The APE guards that had been knocked to the floor by the impact were scrambling to their feet, cowering against the wall and gaping at the FRANXX in horror. Hiro stepped forward, over the body of one that had not risen yet, then over the twisted wreckage of one of the blast doors, and as he approached her, Strelizia withdrew her weapon.

He reached up pointlessly toward Strelizia, as if to touch her face, though it was four meters above his head.

A clattering sound behind him indicated the departure of the guards.

The FRANXX shifted, clumsily. It was not like her. For a moment she stopped resembling a living thing. She was sinking into a kneeling position. Her faceplate was swooping toward him; it was taller than his entire body. It stopped at his eye level. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He could no longer move.

The hatch locks disengaged with a dull _thunk_. The hydraulics hissed, and the hatch itself opened, and a slim pink-haired figure whose shape he had memorized for hours upon hours tumbled out and alit on the floor in front of him as gracefully as if she were weightless.

Zero Two’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Her horns had grown to the length of his hand, and her lips were cracked and dry and scarred. He would still have liked to kiss them.

“Zero Two,” he tried to say, but he couldn’t speak.

Zero Two reached out to him, and her hands fastened around his throat. Hiro did not attempt to fight; her grip was as immovable as iron. He knew she was strong enough to snap his neck, and that she was choosing not to. It didn’t matter. This was what he had wanted regardless. And then, a second later, as darkness began to cloud the corners of his vision and the strength of her grip did not loosen, she bent forward and kissed him.

Her fangs were still sharp.

At the base of the white tree, the little black-robed figure shivered.

_I’m back._

The figure turned its head and looked at him for the first time, and he saw that it was a little girl. She had white hair and long red horns, and bright green eyes with concentric circles in the irises.

_I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long._


End file.
